
Bookiiiimir 



COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT. 



DRAMATIC WORKS OF J, HARTLEY MANNERS 



THE HARP OF LIFE 



'Love took up the Harp of Life and smote 
on all the chords with might! 

Smote the chord of Self that, trembling, 
passed in music out of sight.'* 



BY J. HARTLEY MANNERS 

Three Plays 

God's Outcast: All Clear and 
God of My Faith 

Peg O' My Heart 

A Novel on the Comedy 

Happiness 

and Two Other Plays 

Wreckage 

A Drama in Three Acts 

Out There 

A Dramatic Composition in 
Three Parts, on the World War 

The Wooing of Eve 

A Comedy in Three Acts 




LATRETTK TAYLOR AS "SYIVIA 



THE HARP OF LIFE 

A PLAY 

J. HARTLEY MANNERS 




NEW ^^SJT YORK 
GEORGE H. DORAN COMPANY 



^^^ 






COPYRIGHT, 1921, 
BY J. HARTLEY MANNERS 

ALL BIGHTS RESERVED, INCHTDIXG THOSE 
OF TBANSLATIOir 



©CI.D 59177 

PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA 



TO 

THE ORIGINATOR OF THE PART OP 

STLVIA: LAURETTE TAYLOR 
I GRATEFULLY DEDICATE THIS PLAT 

The Auth(» 



[Reproduction of Original Programme] 



Produced at the Globe Theatre, New York, 
on Monday, November 27th, 1916. 



Klaw & Erlanger and George C. Tyler 
Present 

LAURETTE TAYLOR 

IN 

THE HARP OF LIFE 

A Play in Three Acts 
By J. Hartley Manners 

"Love took up the Harp of Life and smote on all the 
chords with might ! 
Smote the chord of Self that, trembling, passed in music 
out of sight." 

Produced under the personal direction of the Author 



[Original Programme: Continued] 



The People of the Play 



SYLVIA 

ZEILA VORONA 
ELIZABETH HOOD 
OLIVE HOOD 
MARSHALL BROOKE 
LEONARD BROOKE 
GODFREY SAXON 



Miss Laurette Taylor 
Miss Gail Kane 
Miss Ffolliot Paget 
Miss Lynn Fontanne 
Mr. Philip Merivale 
Mr. Dion Titheradge 
Mr. Frank Kemble Cooper 



The First Act — boyhood 
The Second Act — adolescence 
The Third Act — manhood 



The incidents of tlie first two acts occur in the home 
of the Brooke family: the last act at Mrs. Vorona's 
residence. 

The entire action of the play happens within twenty- 
four hours. 



PAoa 



CONTEXTS 

Act I: BOYHOOD 13 

Act II: ADOLESCENXE 04 

Act III: xMANHOOD 153 



THE PEOPLE OF THE PLAY 

Sylvia 

Zeila Vorona 
Elizabeth Hood 
Olive Hood 
Marshall Brooke 
Leonard Brooke 
Godfrey Saxon 

The incidents of the first two acts occur in the home 
of the Brooke family; the last act at Mrs. Vorona's 
residence. 

The entire action of the play happens within twenty- 
four hours. 



Written 1916 



THE HARP OF LIFE 



THE HARP OF LIFE 



Act I: BOYHOOD 

A large, well-furnished room in the country home of the 
Brooke family. The colouring is pink and grey. As 
you look at the stage you see two large windows on 
your left at the back of the room opening on to a 
roomy porch. Nejt to the windows to your left is a 
door leading to the other rooms of the house. On 
your right at the back of the room is another door 
leading into the entrance-hall. 

The furnishing of the room is simple, comfortable and 
tasteful. The colour-scheme of pink and grey has 
been carefully and completely emphasised. 

It is afternoon in early summer. The sun is flooding in 
through the open windows. 

A telephone-bell can be heard ringing for some seconds 
before the curtain rises. When it ascends the room is 
empty. 

You then see that the telephone is on a small table at the 
back. It continues to ring fitfully. After a while, 
[13] 



THE HARP OF LIFE 

as though the operator at the other end despaired of 
attracting attention, it stops. 

Through the open windows can be heard the sound of 
several voices punctuated with hearty laughter. 

On to the porch and into the room energetically walks 
Marshall Brooke, a toll, studious, somewhat grave 
man, a little over forty, followed by his son Leonard, 
a bright, alert handsome boy of nineteen. Both are 
in riding-kit: heated, somewhat breathless and evi- 
dently enjoying a very recent humorous incident. 

The boy turns on the porch and laughs at someone in the 
near distance. Brooke throws his cap and whip onto 
a seat and joins his son, laughing heartily and mopping 
himself generously with a handkerchief. They both 
look off at the unseen butt of their shafts of humour. 

LEONARD 

You did pick a soft spot to fall on. 

BROOKE 

And you fell very gracefully. 

LEONARD 

You mustn't be discouraged. He is quite easy to sit 
on when you understand horses. 

BROOKE 

I'll show you in the morning. Poor Sylvia. 

LEONARD 

Poor, dusty mother. 

lOnto the porch comes Sylvia, a slim, graceful, sym- 
pathetic woman of thirty-six, looking many years 
[14] 



Act I: BOYHOOD 

younger. She is wearing a well-fitting riding-habit 
which throws into relief her trim figure and girlish 
face. She is eoctremely dusty all down the right 
side of the habit and the right sleeve. She is 
straightening a dent out of her hard felt riding- 
hat, is somewhat red from exertion, nervous from a 
fall, and a little irritated at being chaffed.] 

SYLVIA 

[Aims a blow at Leonard who runs nimbly into the 
room. She follows him.] I suppose you have never 
had a tumble? 

LEONARD 

Never, since I left riding-school. 

SYLVIA 

[Turns to her husband who is chuckling insanely as he 
looks at his wife.] I don't see anything particularly 
funny in it. 

BROOKE 

You would have if you could have seen yourself. It 
was the neatest thing in tumbles outside of a circus. 

LEONARD 

This is what you did. Look. [Gives an imitation, 
with the aid of a chair, of Sylvia riding at a gate, the 
horse stopping and the fair rider going clear over the 
horse's head and falling on her right side. He matches 
word with action.] Gee up! Over, lad! Heavens! 
Down ! [Looks up from the floor at his father, rubbing 

[15] 



THE HARP OF LIFE 

his elbow on which he had fallen heavily in his seal for 
portrayal.'] Eh, father? 

BROOKE 

Pretty good. Sylvia was more graceful and chose a 
softer spot. 

SYLVIA 

Only a male animal would do such a thing. Throw 
a woman. Beast. He shied at the bushes. 

BROOKE 

Poor "Gypsy." Such a mild animal, too. 

LEONARD 

What did you do to him.^ 

SYLVIA 

Nothing. He simply wouldn't jump. Stopped dead 
— and off I came. [The two men laugh heartily.] If 
it's so amusing I wonder you don't go to hospitals for 
entertainment. The accident-wards for preference. 

LEONARD 

[Quizzingly.] Do you think it's age, father? 

BROOKE 

Yes. And weight. 

LEONARD 

She's losing her "hands." 

BROOKE 

All women do after a certain age. 

LEONARD 

She can't judge distance any more. 
[16] 



Act I: BOYHOOD 

BROOKE 

Weight will handicap any horse. 

LEONARD 

Poor old mother. 

BROOKE 

Poor heavy old lady. 
[Father and son sigh heavily.'] 

[Sylvia gives them a scornful look as she removes her 
gauntlets and puts them icith her hat on a tahle,^ 

LEONARD 

[Dancing gleefully and mischievously.'] She's got 
the needle ! Mother's got the needle ! 

BROOKE 

Dear, dear. Temper. Really. 

LEONARD 

This is fun. Fancy being angry because a quiet old 
horse tossed her! 

SYLVIA 

I'm not angry and he's not a quiet old horse. 

LEONARD 

I believe she's going to cry. 

BROOKE 

Oh, my boy, the best of us have to give in to advanc- 
ing years and tonnage. 

LEONARD 

Never mind, mother. We'll get you a nice, docile 
old mare. 

[17] 



THE HARP OF LIFE 

BROOKE 

Driving is safer — if someone else holds the reins. 

SYLVIA 

Do you really think I couldn't make him go over that 
stupid little fence? 

LEONARD 

I know you couldn't. 

SYLVIA 

[To her husband.^ And you? 

BROOKE 

Well, my dear! You didn't. 

[Sylvia goes quickly to the windows.'] 

BROOKE 

Where are you going? 

SYLVIA 

To the stable. 

BROOKE 

What for? 

SYLVIA 

I'm going to take "Gypsy" up the same run and over 
the fence. 

BROOKE 

Don't be ridiculous. 

SYLVIA 

I am. 

LEONARD 

What nonsense, mother. We were only rotting. 

BROOKE 

Of course we were. Just chaffing. 
[18] 



Act I: BOYHOOD 

LEONARD 

Silly old mother. You didn't think we were serious? 

SYLVIA 

It's the first time I've been thrown since I was a girl. 

LEONARD 

They play sky-rockets with me. [To his father."] 
Don't they? 

BROOKE 

Always. And when I come off I cover much more 
ground. 

SYLVIA 

You should have said all that before. I'm going to 
take him over that fence. 

BROOKE 

Later. Not now. You're hot — and nervous. 

LEONARD 

And dusty. Look at that dust! Half a minute. 
Don't move. I'll soon get rid of that. [Runs aff.] 
[Sylvia goes to the window. Her husband stands in 
front of her.] 

BROOKE 

Please don't go. 

SYLVIA 

You don't think I'm growing too old to ride? 

BROOKE 

[Laughs.] Of course I don't. 

SYLVIA 

[Smiles.] And I'm not fat, am I? 
[19] 



THE HARP OF LIFE 

BROOKE 

Don't you know when you're being jollied? 

SYLVIA 

Not about my age — and my weight. They're no joke 
to a woman. I hate the idea of getting heavy, and — 
I'm a year older to-day. 

LEONARD 

[Rushing in with a clothes brush.^ Here we are. 
[Brushes her sleeve and skirt briskly.] In a couple of 
shakes no one would know you ever had a speck of dust 
on you. There we are. Spick and span. How's that.^* 

SYLVIA 

[Smiles at him and pinches his cheek.] Thank you, 
dear. 

LEONARD 

She's melting, father. Say something funny and 
make her laugh. Laugh for us, mother. 

[Sylvia grimaces at him, then laughs foolishly.] 

LEONARD 

Hurrah! All over.^ 

SYLVIA 

Yes. 

BROOKE 

I apologised. Grovelled. You do the same. 

SYLVIA 

He says I'm not fat — nor old. 

BROOKE 

Go on, my lad. Down on your knees. 
[20] 



Act I: BOYHOOD 

LEONARD 

[Kneeling.] I apologise — and grovel. Old? Why, 
you look as a girl. And there's many a wench of eigh- 
teen might envy you that figure. 

BROOKE 

[Severely.] Wench? 

LEONARD 

Yes. Old English, father. 

BROOKE 

Not before your mother, my boy. Really. Wench! 
Oh, no. 

LEONARD 

I withdraw wench, mother. 

SYLVIA 

[Laughs; holds out her left hand to her husband and 
her right to her son.] You are both forgiven. [Shiv- 
ers.] Age and weight! I've been hiding one and try- 
ing to keep off the other^ for your sakes, for years. 

LEONARD 

[Remembers something.] Oh! What an ass! 
[Rushes off.] 

SYLVIA 

I'll never ride that little beast again. Suppose he'd 
dragged me? I might have been disfigured. [Shiv- 
ers.] Then you and Leonard wouldn't be so proud 
of me. 

BROOKE 

Don't be morbid, Sylvia. I beseech you do not be 
morbid. 

[21] 



THE HARP OF LIFE 

SYLVIA 

I'm only vain of my looks because you and Len are. 
[Smiles as she recalls.] Do you remember him coming 
home from school when he was quite small and saying 
solemnly that he was so very glad I "didn't have 'box- 
pleats' in my face like some of the boys' mothers"? 
[She imitates Leonard's childish voice as it was at 
that time and reproduces in pantomime a picture of 
the mothers referred to.] 

BROOKE 

We both spoil you. Ah ! And that reminds me. I'm 
going to spoil you now. I've a birthday present for 
you. Here. 

[Takes a package from his pocket and hands it to 
her.] 

SYLVIA 

[Her face lights up as she takes the package.] The 
only nice things about birthdays — at my age — are the 
presents. I was so afraid you'd forgotten. 

BROOKE 

Many happy returns. 

SYLVIA 

[Opening the case and revealing a pearl necklace.] 
What a dear! Pearls! [Holding it up.] It's per- 
fectly heavenly. 

BROOKE 

You must wear it to-night. We're all going to the 

[Leonard staggers in with a folding step-ladder, 
making considerable noise. He places it under a 
[22] 



Act I: BOYHOOD 

pink and grey howl of flowers suspended from the 
ceiling. ] 

BROOKE 

What are those for? 

LEONARD 

[Hurrying out.'] Wait a minute. Don't touch them. 

SYLVIA 

[Looking at the necklace from different angles.^ 
They're exquisite. I've always wanted one •like this. 
How did you guess.'* I love pearls. 

BROOKE 

Most women do. 

SYLVIA 

How do you know.'' 

BROOKE 

[Severely.] Never mind. 

[Placing it around her neck.] Fasten it. [As he 
fastens it she croons softly.] 

"The hours I've spent with thee^ dear heart. 
Are as a string of pearls to me." 
[They both laugh.] Do you know this is the twenty- 
third necklace you've given me? 

BROOKE 

Is it, really? 

SYLVIA 

Do you give them because you like my neck or to 
cover it up? 

[23] 



THE HARP OF LIFE 

BROOKE 

Because I love it. [Kisses the back of her neck.'\ 
I want you to wear it to the theatre tonight. I have 
seats for the three of us. 

SYLVIA 

That will be lovely. 

LEONARD 

[Rushes in excitedly with a large parcel which he 
places on the lounge and begins to struggle with the 
wrapper. ~\ Take that bowl down, someone. 

BROOKE 

Why? 

LEONARD 

Because I've another one here. A real one. 

SYLVIA 

[Goes to him; quite interested.'] Have you? What 
kind? 

LEONARD 

[Still struggling with the parcel.] Take that down 
first. Then I'll show you. 

[Sylvia goes to the ladder and mounts it."] 

BROOKE 

I'll do it. 

SYLVIA 

Oh, no. I put it up here. A long time ago. [Takes 
bofwl off the hook and hands it to Brooke.] Do you 
remember ? 

[Brooke nods and places bowl on a chair.] 
[24] 



Act I: BOYHOOD 

LEONARD 

[Producing from the wrapping a much larger and 
more ornate howl which he holds high above his head.^ 
There! How's that? 

SYLVIA 

Oh! Purple! 

LEONARD 

[Anjciously.] Do you like it? 

SYLVIA 

I love it. 

LEONARD 

[To his father.] Do you? 

BROOKE 

[Tolerantly.'] Very nice indeed. 

LEONARD 

[Disgustedly.] "Very nice indeed!" Why, it's 
magnificent. Have you ever seen one like it? 

BROOKE 

Very likely. 

LEONARD 

[Angrily.] Where? 

BROOKE 

Oh^ here and there. 

SYLVIA 

Well, I*ve never seen one quite like it. 

LEONARD 

[Handing it up to her.] I should think not. I had 
it made for you. 

[23] 



THE HARP OF LIFE 

SYLVIA 

[Hanging it on hook.'\ Give me the flowers. 

LEONARD 

[Taking flowers from the old howl; loohs scornfully 
at his father.] "Very nice indeed" ! You've no soul. 

BROOKE 

Not for bowls, my boy. 

LEONARD 

[Handing the flowers up to Sylvia.] I love pur- 
ple. It seems to call out to you. 

SYLVIA 

[Arranging the flowers in the new bowl.] What 
does it call to you? 

LEONARD 

It seems to speak of pageants and ceremonials: of 
wonderful old dead-and-gone days when people did 
things — big things. It's the colour of the great. It is 
eloquent, isn't it? 

BROOKE 

[Laughingly, as he fills and lights his pipe.] You 
are, my lad. 

SYLVIA 

[Smiling wistfully.] Don't you like my quiet col- 
ours any more? 

LEONARD 

[Quickly.] Oh, they're all right. 

SYLVIA 

But they have no majesty? [Her head on one side, 
she looks first critically, then admiringly, at the bowl.] 

[26] 



Act I: BOYHOOD 

You're right. It's quite, quite unusual. [jTo Brooke.] 
Eh? 

BROOKE 

Very nice indeed. 
[Sylvia laughs.'] 

LEONARD 

[^Gives his father a scornful look, then holds the lad- 
der firmly so that his mother may descend,^ But that 
isn't all. 

SYLVIA 

Isn't it? [Half -slips.] 

LEONARD 

[Supporting her.] Take care. 

SYLVIA 

[Reaches the ground safely.] That was close. I 
nearly fell again. 

BROOKE 

You'd better keep on the ground for the rest of the 
day. 

SYLVIA 

[Loftily.] That wasn't age or weight. I could do 
that when I was ten. [To Leonard.] So that isn't 
aU? 

LEONARD 

Good Lord, no. Not half. Barely a quarter. Wait 
a moment. Don't go away. [Rushes out.] 

SYLVIA 

[Picks up the old howl, smiles at it. Looks up at the 
new one then at her husband. She makes a rueful face 

[27] 



THE HARP OF LIFE 

at the startling new purple bowl,^ It does seem to 
talk, doesn't it, Marshall? 

BROOKE 

Out of key. 

SYLVIA 

It shocks. Nice old bowl. 

[Takes the old one on to the porch."] 

LEONARD 

[Totters in with a large purple folding-screen.] 
Where are you, mother? 

SYLVIA 

\Re-appearing from porch.] Here I am. 

[Looks in amazement at the screen which Leonard 
has now opened out in all its sections and is survey- 
ing enthusiastically.] 

BROOKE 

Great heavens ! 

SYLVIA 

Purple! 

LEONARD 

[Triumphantly.] Well? How do you like it? 

SYLVIA 

It's wonderful. 

[Sylvia and Leonard turn instinctively to see the ef- 
fect on Brooke.] 

BROOKE 

[Nods condescendingly.] Very nice. Very nice in- 
deed. 

[28] 



Act I: BOYHOOD 

LEONARD 

[Scornfully.] Nice! Those are nice, [Pointing to 
articles on the table, then looking at the purple screen 
rapturously.] But — ah! 

SYLVIA 

Where shall we put it? 

BROOKE 

In the garage. 

LEONARD 

Where? Why in place of that. 

[Points to the old pink and grey screen.] 

SYLVIA 

Oh^ no, Leonard. It's been here for years. 

LEONARD 

Too many. Wait until you see this in its place. 
[Looks around the room with the critical eye of an in- 
terior decorator.] We'll make it a jolly room when we 
follow out the new colour scheme. 

BROOKE 

Jolly.? Awful. 

LEONARD 

[Scornfully.] Napoleon wept over purple. 

BROOKE 

[Looking at the new bowl and screen.] And well 
he might. 

LEONARD 

Some people are colour-blind. It's pathetic what 
they miss in life. 

[29] 



THE HARP OF LIFE 

BROOKE 

Don't you patronise me or I'll throw it [pointing 
to bowQ on the ash-heap and make that horrible screen 
into firewood. 

LEONARD 

It's dreadful to have a vandal in the family. How 
have you lived with him all these years in all this ugli- 
ness.^ How that jars now! [Indicating old screen.] 
Out with it! 

[Closes up the old screen and goes out with it,'\ 

SYLVIA 

[Arranges the purple screen.] Doesn't it make you 
feel old having the room changed? 

BROOKE 

You shouldn't encourage him. Dreadful things. 

SYLVIA 

It's his individuality asserting itself. 

BROOKE 

Why should it break out in purple? 

SYLVIA 

Oh_, Marshall. 

BROOKE 

I believe if he re-did the room in canary-yellow 
you'd breathe a deep sigh and murmur "Oh! Yellow!'* 
Such nonsense. 

LEONARD 

[Hurrying in; looking at the effect.] Ah! that's 
better. We'll have a purple carpet and purple hang- 

[30] 



Act I: BOYHOOD 

ings [Alters the screen to his liJcing.l That's 

more like it. To think a majestic colour like that could 
bring tears to the eyes of an emperor. [Looks at his 

father.] I wish I could teach you to [Brooke 

frowns at his son, takes his pipe and tobacco pouch, 
goes out on to the porch; sits and smokes. Leonard 
watching his father go out; turns to Sylvia.] It's 
pathetic. You have to be born with a sense of beauty. 
You can't learn it. 

SYLVIA 

Where did you learn the majesty of purple? 

LEONARD 

[Evasively.] Oh^ I've always liked it. 

SYLVIA 

You never seemed discontented with my colours be- 
fore. 

LEONARD 

[Hurriedly.] I'm not. Really. This is the first 
time I've been able to give you a real present. With 
my own money. I'm awfully grateful to Uncle Will 
for leaving me such a nice little nest-egg. I forgive 
him everything — even for painting that dreadful picture 
of me. [Looking up at a portrait in oils of himself at 
a very youthful age, hanging high on the wall.] Was 
I ever like that.^ 

SYLVIA 

It's exactly as you were at five. 
[31] 



THE HARP OF LIFE 

LEONARD 

[Looking at it disgustedly. '\ Was I, really? Why 
didn't you have my hair cut? 

SYLVIA 

I did. [Laughs.] When the barber cut off one long 
curl I picked it up in a panic and tried to put it back 
again. Really I did. 

LEONARD 

[Laughing "with her.] How silly. 

SYLVIA 

I loved your curls. 

LEONARD 

[Looks at the picture again.] I looked like a girl. 
Well, I'm glad I didn't stay yellow. Let's put it in 
another room. [Starting up.] 

SYLVIA 

No. You may change my bowl and screen and pur- 
ple up the whole room but that stays where it is. 

LEONARD 

Oh, all right. But it does make you rather sick when 
you're grown up. 

[Turns away from it with a shiver.] 

SYLVIA 

Olive loves it. 

LEONARD 

[Uncomfortably.] Oh? 

SYLVIA 

And Olive loves you. And I'm sure you love Olive. 
Don't you? 

[32] 



Act I: BOYHOOD 

LEONARD 

[Irritably.'] Now, mother 

BROOKE 

[On the porch calling to some people in the distance.] 
Hello. How are you? [Coming into the room; an- 
grily.] Mrs. Hood. She's got into the garden again. 

SYLVIA 

Bring her in, dear. Is Olive with her? 

BROOKE 

Yes. What are we going to do? 

SYLVIA 

Make them welcome, of course. Go on. 

BROOKE 

[Disappears into the garden and is heard calling.] 
Come in this way. I'll open the gate. 

LEONARD 

What in the world have they come for? 

SYLVIA 

What has Olive come for? Why have you changed 
your tie four times a day lately? 

LEONARD 

[Seriously and rapidly.] I have a great deal to tell 
you, mother. I wanted to get you alone this after- 
noon. It's a shame these people coming in like this. 

SYLVIA 

They may not stay long. 

[33] 



THE HARP OF LIFE 

LEONARD 

But I'm going up to town by the four-something — 
twenty or thirty. 

SYLVIA 

[Very disappointed.'\ Oh, no, Leonard. Not on my 
birthday. You mustn't. 

LEONARD 

That's the worst of it. I promised — oh, a long time 
ago — to dine in town to-night. 

SYLVIA 

Can't you get out of it? 

LEONARD 

[^Quichly.'] No. I can't, really. I'd like to, of 
coursCr But I've promised. 

[^The voices of Brooke and the newcomers sound 
quite near. A woman s voice says distinctly: 
"Don*t shut my dress in the gate." A girVs voice 
replies: "No, mother." Brooke is heard welcom- 
ing them with much heartiness. 

BROOKE 

Here we are. And very nice, too. 

LEONARD 

[Picks up the wrappings of the parcel and the step- 
ladder and hurries out.^ Awful, breaking in on us like 
this. 

[Brooke appears on the porch and ushers into the 
room Mrs. Hood, a severely respectable, some- 
[34] 



Act I: BOYHOOD 

what portly, middle-aged woman. She is breath- 
ing heavily from a combination of exercise and 
closely-fitting corsets. Her eyes rest longingly on 
a chair. She is closely followed by her daughter, 
Olive: a slight, spirituelle, graceful girl of eigh- 
teen.] 

SYLVIA 

\_Pleasantly.] How are you, Elizabeth? 

MRS. HOOD 

Hot. 

[She looks at the various chairs, decides she would 
prefer the lounge and goes straight to it and sits.] 

SYLVIA 

[Embracing Olive.] Well, Olive! What a sweet 
hat! 

olive 
Do you like it? 

SYLVIA 

I do. It's charming of you to have thought of us, 
dear Elizabeth. Isn't it, Marshall? 

BROOKE 

Most. Very nice of them. It'll quite brighten up 
the afternoon. 

MRS. HOOD 

[Sitting bolt upright through corset-pressure, fanning 
herself.] I didn't want to come. A hot day like this. 
I would much rather have stayed at home. 

BROOKE 

Why didn't you? Hot day like this. 
[35] 



THE HARP OF LIFE 

MRS. HOOD 

Olive wanted to. 

BROOKE 

Oh? Olive wanted to. [Shakes his head at Olive.] 
Ah! 

MRS. HOOD 

Your birthday, or something. 

BROOKE 

Then it was your fault, Sylvia, dragging this poor 
woman out on a hot day like this. 

SYLVIA 

Marshall, do be quiet. Sit down. 

[Brooke is about to sit beside Mrs. Hood and continue 

'Wagging'* her.] 
No. Over there. 

[Brooke sits over near the wall scowling at the vis- 
itors.'] 

MRS. hood 
Is it your birthday? Or has she made a mistake? 
It would be just like her. 

SYLVIA 

She hasn't. It is my birthday and it was very sweet 
of you to come. 

OLIVE 

[Takes a miniature out of tissue paper and shyly gives 

it to Sylvia.] 
Many happy returns. 

[86] 



Act I: BOYHOOD 

SYLVIA 

[Brightens with real pleasure as she looks at »7.] 
Oh! How darling. Did you paint it yourself? 

OLIVE 

Yes. It's not very good. 

SYLVIA 

Indeed it is. [Shoming it to her husband.] Isn't it, 
Marshall } 

BROOKE 

[Looking at it cursorily.] Very nice. Who is it? 

OLIVE 

Why it's 

BROOKE 

Don't tell me. [Examines it closely; looks up at 
Sylvia.] You! Eh? 

SYLVIA 

Of course it is. 

BROOKE 

[Looking at it more closely.] 

I knew it was. There's a distinct resemblance — here 
and there. Very nice. Very nice indeed. 

SYLVIA 

[Snatches it; grimaces at him.] 

Nice! [To Olive.] It's perfect. [To Mrs. Hood.] 
Have you seen it? 

MRS. HOOD 

[Snorts.] 

Seen it? Every day for three months. Waste of 
time. 

[37] 



THE HARP OF LIFE 

SYLVIA 

Oh, no_, it isn't. You have a great gift, Olive. Hasn't 
she, Marshall? 

BROOKE 

[Returning eagerly to tease Mrs. Hood.] 
She has. You must admit that, Elizabeth. Olive 
has a great gift. I knew it was Sylvia in a moment. 

MRS. HOOD 

A lot of good that kind of gift is in a home. 

BROOKE 

Oh, I don't know. Leonard's beginning to turn out 
a few things. Really nice things. Quite nice. He 
painted a hay-stack last week. [Winks at Sylvia] and 
our old horse 

SYLVIA 

[Trying to stop him.'\ 
Marshall ! 

MRS. HOOD 

You shouldn't encourage him. 

BROOKE 

I don't. But the horse was very complimentary. He 
tried to eat it. 

[Sylvia motions Brooke to go back to his seat by 
the wall.] 

SYLVIA 

Don't pay any attention to him, Elizabeth. He's in 
a vile mood to-day. 

MRS. HOOD 

It's no work for a man. Or for a woman. Give me 
[38] 



Act I: BOYHOOD 

pictures already painted that you can hang on the wall — 
not messed about all over the place. 

BROOKE 

Quite right. On the wall of an empty room. 

SYLVIA 

How did you do it without a sitting, Olive.'' 

OLIVE 

From a photograph Leonard gave me. 

SYLVIA 

[Kisses her.] 

It's most kind of you, dear, and I love it. 

[Leonard comes in very serious and dignified to meet 

the guests. He has changed into a lounge-suit. 

Brooke catches his eye and points to Mrs. Hood. 

Leonard goes reluctantly to greet her.] 

MRS. hood 

[Severely.'] 

Oh! There you are. 

LEONARD 

[Shaking hands with her very stiffly.] 
How are you? [Turns and sees Olive.] Hello, 
Olive. 

olive 

[Faintly.] Hello, Len. 

[They shake hands: Sylvia holds their hands to- 
gether for a moment smiling happily at them, 
Leonard becomes painfully embarrassed: Olive 
shyly happy.] 

[39] 



THE HARP OF LITE 

SYLVIA 

[Showing Leonard the miniature.^ 
From Olive. Isn't it a dear? 

LEONARD 

[Examining the miniature critically.^ 

I say, it's splendid, isn't it ? You are improving. The 
colouring's fine. And you've got mother's nose to the 
point. It's jolly. 

OLIVE 

[Brightens and looks affectionately at him.} 
Do you really like it? 

LEONARD 

[In the manner of a master.] 

Yes, I do. Oh, yes. You're not very strong on 
necks, are you? 

OLIVE 

[Disappointed.] Oh, Leonard! I liked that best of 
all. 

LEONARD 

You can do better than that. See — [pointing to his 
mother] it's mother's big asset. Father's always laying 
offerings at its base. 

SYLVIA 

And Leonard used to give me bracelets because he 
thought my hands pretty. Now I've reached the age of 
the "community"-present. Screens, bowls, articles for 
the house. 

LEONARD 

I thought it was time someone got a background for 
vour pretty hair. 

[40] 



Act I: BOYHOOD 

SYLVIA 

Sweet boy! 

MRS. HOOD 

[Disgusted.^ You do swallow more obvious compli- 
ments 

SYLVIA 

Don't I? My appetite is enormous for them. 

LEONARD 

Nice old lady. 

MRS. HOOD 

Who.? 

LEONARD 

Mother, of course. [To Olive.] Come to the light. 
I'll show you what I mean. [He takes Olive on to the 
porch where they can be seen distinctly as Leonard ex- 
pounds the art of painting to her.'\ 

BROOKE 

[To Mrs. Hood]. Has she done you.^* 

MRS. HOOD 

No. And she's not going to. [Struggling miserably 
with cushions in a vain effort to relax.^ 

SYLVIA 

You don't look comfortable. 

MRS. HOOD 

I'm not. I hate your furniture. 

SYLVIA 

[As she squeezes cushions all around Mrs. Hood, 
[41] 



THE HARP OF LIFE 

laughs.] It's not my furniture. It's your corset. 
Why people wear cages I can't understand. 

MRS. HOOD 

Now don't begin on that again. You don't understand 
why people wear clothes. 

SYLVIA 

No. I don't. And if someone hadn't started the 
fashion I wouldn't. 

BROOKE 

Sylvia ! Really ! 

SYLVIA 

Well, not so many. 

BROOKE 

Not before Elizabeth, my dear. 

MRS. HOOD 

[Beckons to Brooke and points to Olive and Leonard 

chatting on the porch.] 
They look well together, don't they.^ 

BROOKE 

Who? 

MRS. HOOD 

The children. Olive and Leonard. 

BROOKE 

[Glancing at them.] Oh, yes. Very nice. 

MRS, HOOD 

[Sighs.] Dear me ! It takes me back to my own time. 
I was just like her once. 

[42] 



Act I: BOYHOOD 

BROOKE 



No. Really? 
A rail. 
A what? 
Really ! A rail. 
Fancy that. 



MRS. HOOD 
BROOKE 

MRS. HOOD 
BROOKE 



MRS, HOOD 

Now look at me. [Wriggles uncomfortably. Looks 
enviously at Sylvia.] How do you keep slim? 

SYLVIA 

[Laughs.'] Directly I think I'm growing fat I take 
it ofF. 

MRS. HOOD 

Mine won't come off. 

BROOKE 

A friend of mine tried living on butter for three months 
and lost thirty pounds. 

SYLVIA 

Marshall ! 

BROOKE 

Well thirty pounds! That's a great deal, Elizabeth. 

MRS. HOOD 

[Ignoring him.] What do you do, Sylvia? Diet? 

SYLVIA 

Exercise. I walk, play tennis, swim, ride 

BROOKE 

Oh, yes. Sylvia rides. She gets a good deal of exer- 
[43] 



THE HARP OF LIFE 

cise that way. More than most people. Especially when 
she tumbles. 

SYLVIA 

[Checks him, reproachfully.'] 

Marshall! [To Mrs. Hood.] I don't give myself a 
chance to get heavy. 

MRS. HOOD 

You'll hurt yourself doing those things. 

BROOKE 

[Quickly.'] She did just now. Out there. Fell off. 
Fell right off. [To Sylvia.] Didn't you? 

SYLVIA 

What a tease you are. 

MRS. HOOD 

We can't do that kind of thing at our age. 

BROOKE 

Our age? 

MRS. HOOD 

No. Her age. [Sylvia laughs.] Well, there's not 
much difference. [Sylvia laughs heartily.] How old 
is Leonard? 

SYLVIA 

Nineteen. I'm thirty-six. 

MRS. HOOD 

Thirty-six! [Thinks as she calculates.] 

SYLVIA 

Yes. That's right, isn't it ? But I don't feel a minute 

[44] 



Act I: BOYHOOD 

older than Len. I look at life^ most of the time, through 
his eyes. That's how I keep young. 

[Brooke not liking the trend of the conversation, 
creeps quietly to the door.] 

MRS. HOOD 

You've got a shock coming to you some day. [Sylvia 

laughs immoderately.] Do you approve ? [Turns 

to Brooke, misses him, then discovers him hy the door.] 
Do you approve of it? 

BROOKE 

[Vaguely, anxious to get away.] Eh.'* Yes. No. 
They're a pair of children. 

MRS. HOOD 

[Snorts.] Children! 

BROOKE 

Really they are. Nice children, but — children. 
[Turns to door.] 

SYLVIA 

Are you going away, Marshall? 

BROOKE 

No. [As the two women turn to each other he goes 
out softly.] 

MRS. HOOD 

That's only playing at motherhood. Where's your 
dignity ? 

SYLVIA 

Why dignity? That only frightens children. Drives 
them away from you. I wanted Leonard to grow up 

[45] 



THE HARP OF LIPE 

looking on me as his companion as well as his mother — . 
And he does. That is the relationship we have to each 
other. 

MRS. HOOD 

I haven't brought Olive up that way. [Chuckles 
grimly.] Oh, no ! I have always had too much dignity 
for that. It's born in me. People naturally look up to 
me. Olive does. She's got to. I know every thought 
in her mind. She idolizes me. 

SYLVIA 

IMischievously.'] How can she help it? 

MRS. HOOD 

Exactly. I brought her into the world at a great deal 
of personal inconvenience. [Closes her eyes at this re- 
memhrance.'] What an inconvenience. I have fed her, 
clothed her and educated her at a great deal of expense. 
Why? Just to turn her over to some young man when 
the time comes. That's all motherhood is. Worry and 
trouble and expense from the time they're born until 
they're married off. Then, if they make a mistake, more 
worry. All I ask from Olive — and I insist on — is obedi- 
ence, gratitude, and, of course, love. I insist on them, 
and I get them, because I'm her mother. 

SYLVIA 

Leonard loves me quite irrespective and outside of 
the fact that I'm his mother. He admires me. I never 
demand anything in the name of mother. I always ask 
in the name of love. And where there is love there must 
be obedience to the loved-one's wishes. As to gratitude 

[46] 



Act I: BOYHOOD 

it is all mine. Since my real happiness has been in 
him. Don't you feel it to Olive .^ 

MRS. HOOD 

Gratitude to Olive? What have / to be grateful for? 
I nearly lost my life having her. And half the time 
I'm sick with anxiety wondering if she'll ever repay 
all I've done for her. 



Surely she has repaid you? No matter what a child 
does or becomes its debt is always paid. They pay you 
when their little arms first cling around your neck ; when 
you live again through their triumphs at school; their 
first love; their first child. It's a joy, is motherhood — 
a blessed chance to revive one's own youth. It's a joy. 

MRS. HOOD 

YouVe got a nasty surprise coming to you. 

SYLVIA 

I think not. 

MRS. HOOD 

Has Leonard said anything to Olive? 

SYLVIA 

No. But I think he means to. Just before you came 
in he said he wanted to have a long talk with me. 

MRS. HOOD 

Hurry him up. Olive's moping about, too. If they're 
too shy to speak out let us do it for them. 

[47] 



THE HARP OF LIFE 

SYL.VIA 

{^Taking a photograph-cdhum off the table and opening 
it.] All right, Elizabeth. I will. Have you seen these .'* 

MRS. HOOD 

No. What are they.^ 

SYLVIA 

Photographs of Leonard ever since he was a little 
baby. [Casualli/ turns over the leaves, Mrs. Hood 
glancing at them.] 

MRS. HOOD 

That's a pretty one. I don't believe in long engage- 
ments. 

SYLVIA 

That was taken when he was seven. 

MRS. HOOD 

[Glancing at it.] Marry them yomig and keep them 
out of mischief. 

SYLVIA 

Not at seven? 

MRS. HOOD 

Don't be silly. 

SYLVIA 

[Smiling.] His father and I married young. 

MRS. HOOD 

There you are. And it turned out all right — so far as 
one can see. 

SYLVIA 

Yes, it did. Even where you can't see. 
[48] 



Act I: BOYHOOD 

MRS. HOOD 

[Grunts.] I've looked out a little place they can take 
at first. It's between our two houses — rather nearer 
mine. We'd better keep them under our eye for a bit. 

SYLVIA 

[Laughs.] You're a funny old dear. [Puts her arm 
around her.] 

MRS. HOOD 

[Releasing herself.] Funny? Well! 

SYL-VIA 

When two people are in love they should be as free 
as the air. 

MRS. HOOD 

Whom will they turn to? 

SYLVIA 

Each other. We did. [Points to a photograph in the 
album.] That's the one I like best. Isn't it good? 

MRS. HOOD 

[Peevishly.] Yes, it is; very. Fm not going to let 
go of Olive, whoever she marries. What do they know 
about life? 

SYLVIA 

Leonard knows something. I told him. 

MRS. HOOD 

Did you? 

SYLVIA 

Yes, I've never believed in lying to children. It's not 
fair to them or to yourself. [Turns back leaves of album 

[49] 



THE HARP OF LIFE 

to find a 'particular photograph.l At that age he began 
to doubt Santa Claus. He couldn't understand how he 
could come down the chimney with all the presents. So 
I told him the truth, before "the boy next door" could. 
He fretted for a few days. But I reasoned him out of 
it by asking him if he wouldn't rather know that his 
father and mother gave him all the pretty things instead 
of a long-whiskered old gentleman he didn't even know. 
That cheered him up, and by the following Christmas 
he was quite reconciled to Santa Claus being a pleasant, 
childish fiction. [Turns leaves, and points to another 
photograph.'] One day, when he was that age, he said: 
"Don't tell me the storks bring the babies, because 
they're all shut up in the Zoological Gardens. I know. 
And if the doctor brings 'em where does he get them.'*" 
I saw how his little brain was puzzled and, instead of 
evading the point, as most parents do, I decided to fore- 
stall "the boy next door" from telling him in some hid- 
eous way, and giving his mind the wrong outlook. 

MRS. HOOD 

[Horrified.] What did you tell him? 

SYLVIA 

The truth. 

MRS. HOOD 

[Aghast.] You didn't! 

SYLVIA 

Why not? Is there any more beautiful truth to tell 
that than of motherhood? In my opinion it's better for 
a child to learn the truth from his mother than to pick 

[50] 



Act I: BOYHOOD 

it up in some vulgar, common way. Why not impress 
it on his mind in some beautiful form while he still re- 
tains all the imagination and the wonder God has put 
there? So I told him. I told him the great mystery 
of life as I feel it should be told to children — not as 
something to speak of in secret among themselves, but 
as the most marvellously beautiful thing in all Nature. 
I explained that the tiny baby, before it was born, took 
its life from the body of its mother; that it came into 
life through the mother's pain and tears, and that be- 
cause of the sacred and wonderful privilege God had 
given to women all men who were really men were al- 
ways gentle and considerate and tender toward them. I 
taught him why a man always protected his woman-kind 
— because they were the mothers of the race. They 
carried in them the little lives that afterwards peopled 
the world. Again I saw the small brain trying to 
grapple with its new wonders. In a few days the key- 
note of his future manhood stood revealed. A new look 
came into his eyes — a tender one of pity, protection, and 
love. He would watch me anxiously. Bring me a shawl 
if the air was cold, a footstool if I looked at all tired, 
and run for my slippers. I had taken on a new value 
in his eyes — a value that has steadily and surely in- 
creased. I was not only his mother. I was a woman, 
the wonder-woman, who brings forth children. Even 
at that age he had learnt what chivalry meant. [Closes 
alburn.^ I sometimes wonder when I see women stand- 
ing, weary with their day's work, in public convey- 
ances, whether, if the men sitting stolidly and selfishly 

[51] 



THE HARP OF LIFE 

in their seats had been told in their childhood of the 
delicate mechanism that constitutes womanhood, they 
would shame their manhood by remaining seated. The 
age of chivalry will never die so long as from the time 
a boy can first understand life he is taught what mother- 
hood is, and what is really meant by the word "woman". 

MRS. HOOD 

[Grunts and shakes her head disapprovingly.] It 
all sounds very improper. Very. I think it shameless 
talking to children about such things. Nothing mar- 
vellous about motherhood to me. The less said about it 
the better. 

SYLVIA 

The more said about it the better. If mothers don't 
glorify motherhood who will.'* We should all be careful 
of the "boy next door". 

MRS. HOOD 

What do you mean, "the boy next door.'*" There's no 
house near here? 

SYLVIA 

Well, let us say the boy chum at school — the one who 
has learnt something which he whispers in a furtive way 
as if it were a thing to be ashamed of. That kind of 
distorted knowledge causes a child to look curiously, 
and in the wrong way, at his parents. Then it is sl thing 
to be ashamed of. I saved Leonard from that. He only 
saw the beauty and mystery of it. 

[Olive and Leonard come in from the porch and 
stand at the window talking.'] 
[52]' 



Act I: BOYHOOD 

MRS. HOOD 

I*d be ashamed to tell Olive such things. Her mind 
is like a piece of white paper. Why, if she as much as 
thought 

[Sylvia sees the young people, calls Mrs. Hood's at- 
tention to them, and checks her.~\ 

LEONARD 

[Brings Olive down to screen, and points out ho'wl.'\ 
There! They are not so bad? 

OLIVE 

[Looks at them and then at Leonard.] They're beau- 
tiful — just what I would expect of you. 

LEONARD 

[Pleased.] ReaUy? 

MRS. HOOD 

[Looking in disgust at howl and screen,] Why, 
where's your pretty screen with the pink roses? 

SYLVIA 

Gone for ever. These are Leonard's birthday presents. 

MRS. HOOD 

[Decidedly.] I don't like them. Not at all. They 
look fast to me. 

LEONARD 

[Disgustedly.] Fast? 

SYLVIA 

Nonsense. Leonard wanted purple in the room, so we 
have purple. They're quite beautiful, Leonard. 

[53] 



THE HARP OF LIFE 

BROOKE 

[On the porch.] [Calls loudly and gleefully to some- 
one in the distance.] 

Hello, you old rascal! Come up here! 

[There is an answering call, and Brooke shouts ex- 
citedly to Sylvia in the manner of a man rescued 
from drowning.] 

It's Saxon! Godfrey Saxon! What a bit of luck! 

[Looks at Mrs. Hood, then goes off porch to meet 
Saxon.] 

LEONARD 

Saxon ! Hurrah ! [Hurries out on to porch.] 

MRS. HOOD 

[Frowningly and ominously.] 

Godfrey Saxon ! Well, one of us is not going to stay 
long. I can't bear him — the familiar creature. [To 
OliveJ Don't you listen to him. Sit over there. 
[Points to chair.] 

[Olive meekly goes to it and sits.] 
[Godfrey Saxon, a grizzled, sunburned, active little 
man, well over fifty, comes breezily on to the porch. 
He has all the characteristics of the horseman and 
all-around open-air lover. He is in well-worn dusty 
riding togs.] 

SAXON 

Hello, old sport! 

BROOKE 

[Exuberantly.] Manna in the wilderness! 

SAXON 

Who is? 

[54] 



Act I: BOYHOOD 

BROOKE 

[Laughing excitedly.'] You are. On the spot at the 
right moment. 

SAXON 

/ am? 

BROOKE 

[Clapping him on the back.] Go in and you'll know 
what I mean. 

SAXON 

Have you been drinking? 

BROOKE 

No. But I'm going to. Go on in. 

SAXON 

Never knew I was so popular. 

BROOKE 

I'll wear you next my heart after this. 

SAXON 

[Greets Sylvia.] What's the matter with yer hus- 
band? A touch o' the sun? [Takes her hand.] Ra- 
diant, as always. Havin' a jolly birthday? 

SYLVIA 

How did you know? 

SAXON 

A little bird whispered it. A chaffinch, my dear. 
[Takes out a bouquet from inside his coat.] So I cut 
these off me prize bushes. [Sniffs the bouquet, then 
hands it with a flourish to Sylvia.] To the fragrant! 
Bless ye! 

[55] 



THE HARP OF LIFE 

SYLVIA 

[Smiles.'] Oh! It's very kind of you. [Buries her 
face in the flowers.'] 

SAXON 

Not a bit. I wanted to see ye smile — show y'r teeth, 
an* look happy. 

SYLVIA 

I am, I do. [Laughs and shows her teeth.] 

SAXON 

[Laughs.] There y*are! Now I'm in y'r debt. [Sees 
Olive, and goes over to her.] Ho, ho! My other dar- 
ling! 

[Mrs. Hood snorts indignantly as he hurries over to 

Olive and takes her hand in both of his.] 
An' how's the precious little chicken.^ 
[Olive glances up at him with a faint smile and then 
lowers her eyes. He turns to Sylvia and Brooke.] 
The wonderful age ! Bones and blushes ! 

MRS. HOOD 

[Angrily.] Oh! 

SAXON 

[Turns and sees her.] Ah, ha! I see ye! I knew 
ye wouldn't be far away. [Hurries to her and takes up 
her unwilling hand.] An' how's the careful hen? 

MRS. HOOD 

[Snatching her hand away, indignantly.] What? 

SAXON 

[Turning to Brooke, who is very pleased at Mrs. 
Hood's annoyance.] See that.'* [Re-produces Mrs. 

[56] 



Act I: BOYHOOD 

Hood's abrupt withdrawal of her hand: turns to Mrs. 
Hood.] Why, sweet lady? Don't ye like **heii"? She's 
a noble bird. Unselfish, indulgent to her brood, provides 
us with nourishment — and chickens [glances at Olive] 
and lays down her life for us. A useful and picturesque 
career. I suppose if I'd said duck ye'd have beamed 
on me! [To Brooke.] Odd, ain't it? [Mrs. Hood 
snorts indignantly.^ I withdraw '*hen" [Looks at Mrs. 
Hood appraisingly."] The "duck" looks full of health 
and temper. I love it in a mare and a mother. [Mrs. 
Hood turns her hack to him: he winks gaily at the others 
and prepares to harangue Mrs. Hood again.] 

SYLVIA 

[Coming to the rescue, crosses to Saxon, shakes her 
head reprovingly at him, and shows him the neck- 
lace.] 

Godfrey! Isn't that adorable? 

SAXON 

What young man gave you that? 

SYLVIA 

[Nodding towards Brooke.] My lover. 

SAXON 

He ought to have known better. Pearls ! They re- 
vive painful memories. [Shivers.] I've given buckets- 
ful. [Waves them away.] Cover 'em up! 

SYLVIA 

I used to dread birthdays. I hated the idea that 
records were kept of our ages. A pain at twenty means 

[57] 



THE HARP OF LIFE 

nothing — at forty we fear appendicitis. That's what 
birthdays do. 

SAXON 

[To Brooke.] She's found it. [To Mrs. Hood.] 
We old 'ns have given up the search, haven't we, dear 
lady.? 

MRS. HOOD 

[Angrily.^ What search? 

SAXON 

For eternal youth — like hers. 

MRS. HOOD 

Rubbish! Eternal nothing! 

SAXON 

I wish rd found the secret. I'm sure you do, too. 
Come, own up. / do. When hair leaves a man — [pass- 
ing his fingers through his scanty hairs'\ and fat creeps 
on to a woman — [looking at Mrs. Hood) it's no use 
pretending. We know youth's gone. Romance can sur- 
vive many things — poverty, disillusionment — but fat, 
never. There's no poetry in fat. 

MRS. HOOD 

If I had a wooden leg, or a glass eye, no one would 
think of referring to it. But people have no thought 
for the sensitiveness of a fat person. It's disgusting. 

SAXON 

[Looks at Sylvia, who shakes her head disapprov- 
ingly.] 

[58] 



Act I: BOYHOOD 

[To Mrs. Hood, indicating Sylvia.] But she's mar- 
velous. Isn't she.'' 

MRS. HOOD 

Yes, she is — for a woman of her time of life, with a 
grown son. 

SYLVIA 

Because we gain a child we needn't lose a figure. .1 
think some people age more quickly than others because 
they become parents instead of playmates. We're play- 
mates. I still play all his games. 

BROOKE 

[Laughing.'} That's a fact. She can beat him at most 
of them. [To Leonard.] Can't she? 

LEONARD 

Yes. Especially riding, 

MRS. HOOD 

It doesn't seem decent to me for a woman to be play- 
ing silly games with men — at our age. 

BROOKE 

Now exactly how old are you really, dear Elizabeth? 

MRS. HOOD 

Oh, I don't mind telling anyone. I never lie about it. 
I'm forty. 

[Brooke suggests astonishment.'] 

SYLVIA 

, That's quite right, Marshall. We went to school to- 
gether. Elizabeth is only forty. 

[59] 



THE HARP OF LIFE 

BROOKE 

You quite misunderstood me — I didn't think she was 
even that. Eh — Godfrey? 

SAXON 

Nowhere near. Wonderfully preserved. [He winks 
at Brooke.) 

MRS. HOOD 

Olive was born when I was twenty-two. No woman 
should have children before that. It's not decent. 

BROOKE 

What was that you were telling me, Godfrey, — that in 
Spain a girl of fourteen ? 

SAXON 

Yes, at fourteen. I saw one, a darling. And the 
baby 

SYLVIA 

Never mind — now stop it — both of you. 

MRS. HOOD 

I suppose, as you are only thirty-six, you tell everyone 
that Leonard was born when you were seventeen.'* 

SYLVIA 

[Laughing.] No. I always say twelve. It makes 
me appear so much younger. They don't believe me. 
But they wouldn't if I told them the truth. [Whimsi- 
cally.'] If it wasn't for that big boy my young hats 
and frivolous dresses would convince anybody. 

[60] 



Act I: BOYHOOD 

MRS. HOOD 

Such affectation is ridiculous. 

SYLVIA 

It isn't affectation. I'm going to remain young as 
long as I can^ and pretty while I may, so that Leonard 
and his father will be proud of me. No one dreams 
we're mother and son when we dance together at parties. 
[To Leonard.] Do they? 

LEONARD 

No. 

SYLVIA 

Until they've been told. And_, of course, someone al- 
ways does tell. 

LEONARD 

I wanted to call her "Sylvia," but she wouldn't have 
it, would you ? 

SYLVIA 

[Smiling at Leonard.] No. I think "Mother" is 
the loveliest name in the world. But a child that size 
is an awful weapon for the jealous to hurl at one's 
birth certificate. 

MRS. HOOD 

I suppose you'll wait till you're a grandmother before 
you give up.^ 

SYLVIA 

[Laughs.] Then I'll play with my grandchildren. 

MRS. HOOD 

You've got such a shock coming to you. 
[61] 



THE HARP OF LIFE 

SAXON 

[^Chuckling at Mrs. Hood's discomfiture.'] She's right, 
kind lady. [To /Sylvia.] Ye have the key to the only 
thing that makes life bearable. 

SYLVIA 

Yes. I think I have. And it's not youth — it's love. 
Youth has its thousand sorrows and disappointments. 
Love keeps life bright and full, as my two men have 
kept mine. Leonard, did you see that poem I marked 
for you this morning? The lines were written by a 
mother to her son. It's quite wonderful. I wonder if I 
can remember the last verse. It is almost a prayer. 
[Puts both hands on Leonard's shoulders, looks 
straight into his eyes, and quotes:] 
"For my love make no woman weep. 
For my love hold no woman cheap. 
And see you give no woman scorn 
For that dark night when you were born. 
Beloved, all my years belong 
To you. Go thread them for a song." 
[She takes her hands from Leonard's shoulders. 
Olive looks up at him. He turns away uncom- 
fortably and stands thinking. There is a general 
movement.] 
I'm sorry! I didn't mean to recite. 

BROOKE 

Not at all, dear. You did it very nicely. Now per- 
haps, Elizabeth, you will oblige — a song, or a dance;( — 
or a little poetry.'' 

[62] 



Act I: BOYHOOD 

MRS. HOOD 

There's only one way to bring up children. Keep 
them under your eyes. Then, if anything goes wrong, 
you're not to blame. 

SYLVIA 

If anything goes wrong, what does it matter who is 
to blame? 

[Brooke suggests in pantomime to Saxon that they 

get out. Saxon agrees with alacrity. Just as 

they get to window — ] 
Marshall, where are you going? 

BROOKE 

[Coming in again.'\ I'm going to show Godfrey the 
new acres. 

SYLVIA 

Wait. IThey stop.'\ We'll take Mrs. Hood. \To 
Mrs. Hood.] Come on, Elizabeth. 

BROOKE 

[Vnder his breath.'] Damn! [Takes Saxon on to 
porch.] 

MRS. HOOD 

[Goes with Sylvia towards window. Calls to Olive.] 
Come along. [Looks at her severely.] Pull your dress 
down! [Clicks her tongue.] Ts ! Ts! Ts! [Smiles 
sourly at Leonard.] Bring her, Leonard. [Shakes her 
finger at him.] You naughty boy ! I hope you tell your 
mother everything. Every single thing. [Goes out on 
to porch xvith Sylvia, they follow the men, and disap- 
pear.] 

[63] 



THE HARP OF LIFE 

OLIVE 

[Follows her mother to window, stops, looks back and 
sees Leonard quite still, frowning, and lost in 
thought. She hesitates, then goes slowly down to 
him, whispers shyly:] 

Leonard. I love purple. 

[Leonard looks quickly at her. She nods towards 
screen and bowl.] 

I think they're beautiful. It was horrid of mother to 
say what she did. She doesn't understand art — nor you. 

Nor me. I don't agree with her at all. Your mother 
is an angel. 

LEONARD 

[Quite uncomfortable.] Yes. She's been splendid to 
me. 

OLIVE 

It must be wonderful to have a mother you're proud 
of — whom everyone adores. It's dreadful when you've 
not, and nobody does, don't you think? 

LEONARD 

It must be. 

OLIVE 

It is. Of course, I love her, and everything, but — I 
do want to get married. 

LEONARD 

[Aghast. ] Married } 

OLIVE 

[Nods, her eyes dancing happily.] Yes, don't you."* 

LEONARD 

Well — of course — I [Stops dead, unable to say 

another word.] 

[64] 



Act I: BOYHOOD 

OLIVE 

[With a little sigh of prospective contentment.'] It 
will be lovely to be able to do everything you like, with 
nobody to say "you mustn't." 

LEONARD 

Is that your idea of marriage? 

OLIVE 

[Smiles, and nods vigorously.] Yes. Just like Sylvia. 
To be always pretty, and dress beautifully, and have 
lovely things about you. [Looks at screen and howl.] 
I'll have purple, too. All over the house. It will be 
wonderful. To play games, and laugh through life — 
happy. It will be glorious. I hate life when it's all 
"mustn'ts". 

LEONARD 

[Trying to make a ghastly joke.] Suppose your hus- 
band "mustn'ts". 

OLIVE 

Oh, but you won't. 

LEONARD 

[Horror-stricken.] 1} 

OLIVE 

[Nods.] Yes. I'm sure you'll be just like Sylvia. 
I suppose you should have spoken first. You don't 
mind, do you? You see, it's all arranged. 

LEONARD 

[Cold and rigid.] By whom? 

OLIVE 

Our mothers. Mine has even picked out our home. 
Quite near hers, so that she can watch us. You won't 

[65] 



THE HARP OF LITE 

allow that, will you? Oh, I must get away from my 
home, away from my mother. I want to be able to 
stretch my arms, take a deep breath, and feel free. You 
will do that, won't you.'* [Smiles happily at him.] 

LEONARD 

[Bewildered.] I think there's been some mistake. 

OLIVE 

[Stands quite still, her smile fades, a catch comes into 
her voice.'] Mistake? 

[In a whisper, fea-rfully.] Mistake! 

LEONARD 

There must be. 

OLIVE 

[Trembling, all illusion gone.] Aren't you going to 
marry me? 

LEONARD 

[In distress.] I can't. 

OLIVE 

[Faintly.] Why? Don't you like me? 

LEONARD 

Oh, yes. I have — always. But — marriage! It 
must be a mistake. 

OLIVE 

[Half -pleading, almost in despair.] If you like me 
it needn't be. 

[Pause. Steps to him. Shyly.] I love you. 

[She looks long at his face. It is set and hard.] 
I thought when you kissed me, and said how proud you 

[66] 



Act I: BOYHOOD 

were of me, and how you wanted me always with you — 
[Her appeal has no effect on him.'] I see. It must be 
a mistake. 

LEONARD 

But — we were only children then. 

OLIVE 

[Reproachfully.] Three months ago! 

LEONARD 

Is that all it is? 

OLIVE 

Yes. In my work-room, when I first showed you my 
pictures. . . . Has your love all gone? 

LEONARD 

It will never do that. I have too many happy memo- 
ries of you. But it's — it's — [Beats his hands in dis- 
tress.] 

OLIVE 

You don't love me enough to marry me? [He turns 
towards her, but does not answer.] I see you don't. 
It is a mistake. I'm so sorry. [Quite bravely.] Don't 
be unhappy about it. It's all my fault. I shouldn't 
have said anything. Only I thought it was all under- 
stood, . . . I'm so very, very sorry. 

LEONARD 

[Quite miserable.] It's an awful shame. [His back 
is turned to her.] 

OLIVE 

[Quickly.] Oh, no, it isn't. It doesn't matter, really. 
[Growing braver, she talks rapidly to cover her emo- 

[67] 



THE HARP OF LIFE 

tion.] Don't feel badly about it. I wouldn't like you 
to do that. I don't. [Tries to laugh.] Mother always 
muddles things. [Suddenly and anxiously.'] Don't let 
her know, Len^ will you.'' She'd be so horrid to me. 

LEONARD 

Of course I won't. 

OLIVE 

There! Everything is all right again. [Tries to 
smile.] Just as if I hadn't said anything. 

LEONARD 

[Looks up at her.] You are a brick, Olive. I feel 
such an awful 

OLIVE 

[Cutting in with a forced laugh.] But you're not. 

You're my old companion, Len. It was so silly 

[Laughs.] — so very silly of me to think you could ever 
be anything else. 

[The voices of the others returning sound clearly 
through the open windows. 

OLIVE 

[Gives a little mournful smile, Leonard goes up R. C 
a little.] 

I have to go back to my mustn'ts", to my "Yes, 
Mother", and "No, Mother". You're the only one I've 
ever had a chance to really talk to. I'm only allowed 
to listen at home. [Brightly.] Don't be cross with me, 
Len. [Gives him a little playful tap on the shoulder. "[ 
Bless you! 

[Runs out to meet the others.] 
[68] 



Act I: BOYHOOD 

[Leonard stares after her, entirely wretched. He 
shrivels into himself, and sits, beating one hand 
against the other, his lips moving, but no sound 
coming from them.'\ 

[Sylvia, Saxon and Brooke reappear on porch and 
enter the room, Olive and Mrs. Hood following. 

SAXON 

We can't all be good-lookers. So what's the use of 
being sensitive? At this particular dinner-party, I was 
given the most beautiful woman in the room as my vis-a- 
vis. She also had a tongue like a wasp. A sting in every 
word. When the signal was given to gather up yer part- 
ners, I approached the Jezebel solemnly and extended 
my arm. She took one look at me and went off into 
peals of rich and exuberant merriment. The procession 
halted to see the fun. When she recovered her breath 
she beamed down on me and said in her beautiful 
silvery voice: "Oh, you beautiful little man." 

BROOKE 

[Laughing.] What did you do? 

SAXON 

Do ? Led the laughter. What was there to do ? Take 
yer medicine, when ye get a jolt below the belt like 
that from a dainty morsel of femininity. If ye're small 
and ugly ye get a facer once in a while. But look at 
what ye miss. No one ever tries to run away with ye. 
Ye live in a kind of splendid isolation. 

Fancy anyone tempting me! [To Mrs. Hood.] Can 
you? 

[69] 



THE HARP OF LIFE 

BROOKE 

Poor old Godfrey! 

MRS. HOOD 

[Looking loftily at Saxon, turns to Olive.] Why 
didn't you come with us? [Looks across at Leonard.] 
Ah! [Purses her lips.'\ I know. [Nods sagaciously 
at Leonard and shakes finger at him.] Wanted to steal 
a chat without an eye on you. Naughty ! Naughty ! 
[Leonard turns abruptly away and goes to meet 
Sylvia. Mrs. Hood turns to Olive and pinches 
her ear with as much sign of affection as it is pos- 
sible for her to show.'] 
Was it a pleasant little talk? 

OLIVE 

[Softly, her eyes averted.] Yes^ mother. 

MRS. HOOD 

[Laughs harshly.] You're a little rogue_, aren't you? 

OLIVE 

[Almost in tears.] No, mother. 

MRS. HOOD 

Yes you are. 

BROOKE 

Sylvia, we must dine early. [To Leonard.] We're 
going to the theatre. 

LEONARD 

[Hurriedly.] I can't. 

BROOKE 

[Frowning.] Why not? 

[70] 



Act I: BOYHOOD 

LEONARD 

I promised to dine in town. Quite a long time ago. 
Mother knows. 

BROOKE 

[Growing angry.] Nonsense! You come with us. 

LEONARD 

[Doggedly.'} I can't. 

BROOKE 

[With increasing anger.] Now, look here 

SYLVIA 

[Interposing.] My dear ! He must go in by the four- 
something — [To Leonard.] Have you remembered 
what? 

LEONARD 

[Takes out time-table from his pocket.] No. I'll 
look it up. 

BROOKE 

You ought to have known better than make an ap- 
pointment for to-night, 

SYLVIA 

It really doesn't matter. 

BROOKE 

Yes, it does. I wanted him with us. 

SYLVIA 

Still, an old engagement 

BROOKE 

[To Leonard.] With whom are you dining, that 
makes it so important .f* 

[71] 



THE HARP OF LIFE 

LEONARD 

[Evasively.l A few friends. I wouldn't think of 
going only it's quite an old thing. 

BROOKE 

[Quite annoyed, turns to Sylvia.] Suppose we ex- 
change the seats.'* You'd like him with us? 

SYLVIA 

Oh, yes. Let us change them. 

BROOKE 

[To Leonard, sarcastically. 1 Are you free to-mor- 
row night? 

LEONARD 

Oh, yes. It's just to-night. It's a very old affair. 
Very old. 

BROOKE 

It must be. It ages every time you mention it. 

LEONARD 

[Finding place in time-tahle.^ Here we are — four- 
eighteen. [Loohs at clock. '\ I've just got ten minutes. 

MRS. HOOD 

[Has been watching and listening. Leers at Leon- 
ard.] We*ll take you to the train. 

LEONARD 

[Annoyed.] Thank you, no. It's only a step. 

MRS. HOOD 

[With an air of proprietorship.] You'll come with 
us. We'll see you don't miss it. [To Sylvia, who comes 

[72] 



Act I: BOYHOOD 

down to meet her.'] I suppose you'll be looking just 
the same when we all come round next year. 

SYLVIA 

I hope so. But come round before that. 

BROOKE 

Must you really go? [Eagerly taking her hand and 
manoeuvring her in the direction of the door,] 

MRS. HOOD 

I mustn't, but I'm going. 

SAXON 

[Bowing courteously.] Dear lady, you will leave a 
vacancy that no one else can fill. 

MRS. HOOD 

[Looks at him indignantly, then calls.] Olive! Leon- 
ard! 

[Olive goes out past her mother, her eyes down. 
Leonard goes after her, making apologies to Syl- 
via, who follows them out. Mrs. Hood draws her- 
self up, looks scornfully at Saxon, who has been 
holding the door open, and goes out too.] 

SAXON 

[Looks at Brooke and shudders.] There goes the 
most advanced argument in favor of celibacy — sans 
beauty, figure, voice, charity, womanliness. 

BROOKE 

You don't leave her much. 
[78] 



THE HARP OF LIFE 

SAXON 

Not a damn thing. 

BROOKE 

You needn't go? 

SAXON 

Not immediately. 

BROOKE 

[Placing cigars and drinks on table. '\ Stay to dinner? 
[Sylvia re-enters.'] 

SAXON 

Can't. Much obliged. 

SYLVIA 

You shouldn't tease Elizabeth. It isn't nice. [Pats 
Brooke.] I love my present. 

BROOKE 

[Frowning.^ I wanted you to wear it to-night. 

SYLVIA 

I will — at dinner. 

BROOKE 

I mean at the theatre. It's most irritating, Leonard 
going away like that. Annoying. 

SYLVIA 

Oh, nonsense! Don't be always finding fault with 
him. 

BROOKE 

It's only because of you. I can see you're hurt. 

SYLVIA 

I'm nothing of the kind. Hurt, indeed! Nothing 
Leonard could do would hurt me. 

[74] 



Act I: BOYHOOD 

BROOKE 

Now, you know perfectly well that you 

SYLVIA 

I don't want to hear any more about it. I'm not hurt. 
[Hurries out very angry.] 

BROOKE 

[Distressed. ] Sylvia ! 

[More loudly.] Sylvia! 

[Sylvia re-enters.] Come here! 

[She goes to him, he takes her hand.] I've never 
voluntarily spent an hour away from you, and I can't 
understand Leonard doing it. Am I forgiven? 

SYLVIA 

[Relenting.] Of course. [Smiles,] You're a funny 
old dear. [To Saxon.] No clubs! No gambling! No 
small graces for other women! Just me! I'm his 
virtue and his vice. Oh, the experiences this man has 
robbed me of! [Saxon chuckles.] 

BROOKE 

What do you mean? 

SYLVIA 

When other men have admired me his supreme good- 
ness has kept me straight. 

BROOKE 

[To Saxon.] She does talk more rot 

SAXON 

That isn't rot. 

[75] 



THE HARP OF LIFE 

SYLVIA 

No indeed. They've realized rivalry wasn't possible 
this side of heaven. When I've seen some Adonis leave 
my side discouraged at his perfection, I've longed to 
cry out to him, "Do come back. My husband beats me 
at times". 

BROOKE 

When you make these revelations are you teasing me 
or telling the truth .^ 

SYLVIA 



What do you think.'* 
I wonder. 



BROOKB 



SYLVIA 

[^Patting his face.~\ That's exactly the right answer 
for a husband. [^Goes laughing out of the room.'] 

SAXON 

YouVe got a marvellous wife. 

BROOKE 

I know that. 

SAXON 

This is the only home I go to that gives me a funny 
little stab here — [Touches his heart] — where my heart 
ought to be. You're henpecked, and you seem to like it. 

BROOKE 

I do. Whatever Sylvia does is always right. I put 
her first. She, womanlike, puts Leonard. / think she 
spoils him. She thinks he can't be spoilt. The only 
times we ever disagree are about him. And I always end 
by giving in. 

[76] 



Act I: BOYHOOD 

SAXON 

Happy is the man who has a wife worth giving in 
to! I wish I'd had one. Look what marriage made of 
me. A damned, silly, gossipy, old mountebank! Any- 
thing for a laugh! I make jokes at funerals in case 
someone thinks I take 'em seriously. Plantin' ye in 
the ground's one o' the best jokes I know. I can't 
bear anyone to think I take anything seriously. Pinkie 
did that. I was so afraid I'd be laughed at for mar- 
ryin* her, that I laugh at everyone — includin' myself, 
first. Took a bit o' doin' jokin' about Pinkie. She 
was the most expensive one I struck. 

BROOKE 

Is she alive? 

SAXON 

Pinkie alive .^ Oh yes. Still roamin' about, poor old 
thing. She's touched up her hair, squeezed in her waist, 
an' married a wine man. Not a bad fellow! Flashy 
little rat! I see 'em in the restaurants sometimes. 
Poor Pinkie! Gettin' fatter every minute. A couple 
o' chins now. She wears high emerald collarettes. All 
out o' wine. They cover the chins and make the skin 
look white. Back and front cut very low. Have ye 
ever noticed that the older some women get the more 
decollete they like to be? 

BROOKE 

I can quite see the reason — ^the back is the last place 
to wrinkle. 

[77] 



THE HARP OF LIFE 

SAXON 

Exactly. Funny, ain't it? I like watching 'em. 
Pinkie's quite a good-looker still. Nice reg'lar fea- 
tures. Have ye ever noticed that people with nice reg'lar 
features are sometimes most irreg'lar in their con- 
duct? Fact! Give me the small, ugly ones with no 
features to speak of. They last longer, do more and 
have less to regret. Look at me! My life's an open 
book. Only no one wants to read it. Heigho ! You 
drew Sylvia! I picked Pinkie! Lo' bless us. 
[Drtnks.'l 

BROOKE 

Still you have your boy. 

SAXON 

[LooJcs at him curiously and stops drinking.'] My 
boy? Oh yes. I have him. There again you have 
the pull on me. Your lad is straight as a die — at least 
he looks it. 

BROOKE 

He is. 

SAXON 

It's the mother in him. [Brooke laughs.'] Yes, it 
is. Ormonde never had one. She bolted when he was 
three. Pretty tough handicap on a kid. 

BROOKE 

What are you going to do with him? 

SAXON 

Do with him? Not a damn thing. He has a good 
seat on a pony an' can dance with the best. He has 
nice reg'lar features, too. Takes after Pinkie. If it 

[78] 



Act I: BOYHOOD 

came to a pinch he might give ridin' lessons or teach 
the tango. But that would seem too much like work. 
He'd hate to get paid for doin' anythin'. 

BROOKE 

How long are you going to allow that? 

SAXON 

I don't allow it. He does it. He's havin' his fling 
and I'm footin' the bills. Leonard hasn't started that 
racket yet, has he.^ 

BROOKE 

He hasn't that kind of nature. 

SAXON 

How do ye know? 

BROOKE 

I ought to. 

SAXON 

But do ye? There's not a great deal of difference 
in boys' natures, take 'em in the rough. They're all 
little animals. An' that's the way to treat *em. Like 
horses. Ye don't try to teach a colt not to be vicious. 
Ye work it out of him. Same with lads. Work it out 
of 'em. Give 'em rope. If ye don't they'll take it with- 
out yer leave an* run into all kinds of mischief. 

BROOKE 

They're the exceptions. Most boys are healthy- 
minded where the home influence is good. 

SAXON 

[With a little harsh, cackling laugh.'] Because he 
rackets about do ye think Ormonde an exception? 

[79] 



THE HARP OF LIFE 

[Laughs loudly.] If ever a boy was not exceptional, 
he's Ormonde. He's ordinary. Damn ordinary. One 
of ten thousand. The good an* bad all jumbled up 
waitin' for time an' experience to sort it out. It's about 
him I came to see ye. 

BROOKE 

Oh? 

SAXON 

He has his yacht in commission an' starts off in a 
day or two for Norway. Struck me it'd be a nice trip 
for Leonard. Give him an idea or two for his brush. 
What do ye say.^* 

BROOKE 

It's very kind of you, Godfrey 

SAXON 

No, it isn't. It's a whale of a big boat an' it'd be 
nice for Ormonde. Send him along. 

BROOKE 

He always spends his holidays with us. 

SAXON 

Give him a real one for a change with some of his 
own age. Knock the nonsense out of him. 

BROOKE 

[Decidedly,] No. Time enough for that. 

SAXON 

I see. Moth-balls and camphor. Pah! Give him 
air an' license. That'll keep the moth out an' the blood 
circulatin'. A couple of months' travel *ud be an en- 
cyclopedia to him. Might paint a hell of a picture. 

[80] 



Act I: BOYHOOD 

BROOKE 

[Finally.'] No. 

SAXON 

Right ye are, old pal. I suppose ye'll take him out 
o* cotton-wool some day an' marry him off young to 
some innocent, bless her little heart, an' they'll prattle 
baby-talk, the little dears. [Helps himself to another 
drink. '\ My dad married me off young — to Pinkie. 
He'd 'a' done me a much better turn if he'd turned me 
loose an' let me look 'em over before I'd pitched my 
tent. I wouldn't have come such a purler if I'd known 
who's who. [Shudders.] What a cropper I came. 
[Quiszingly.] Don't ye think the midnight sun, an* 
sweet music, with a grey eye or so at hand, better for 
Leonard than a family trip to an overrun waterin'- 
place } 

BROOKE 

[Loudlj/.] No. I do not! 

SAXON 

Don't bark at a pal. It ain't friendly. 

BROOKE 

I don't want the good of all these years under our 
influence dissipated by contact with young wasters, 
whose only occupation is sponging on their parents. 
Living useless, vicious, degenerate lives. Corrupt them- 
selves and corrupting others. I want to keep Leonard 
away from them. [Telephone bell rings. Brooke 
goes to it and takes the receiver.] Hello! Who is it? 
. . . Oh! You! Where are you, Leonard? . . . 

[81] 



THE HARP OF LIFE 

What's the matter? ... Is the train late? ... I see. 
. . . Yes, yes. . . . [Listens impatiently, then angrily, '\ 
You'll do nothing of the kind. . . You come back by 
the last train. 

SYLVIA 

\^Comes into the room, having changed from her rid- 
ing-habit to a charming summer dress. She goes to her 
husband.] Is that Len? 

BROOKE 

[Into telephone.] Wait a minute. Here's your 
mother. [Turns to Sylvia.] He thinks he may have 
to stay in town tonight. The idea! [Into phone.] 
You — catch — ^that — last — ^train 

SYLVIA 

[Puts her hand over his mouth.] Ssh! Ssh! 

BROOKE 

[Into phone.] Hold on. 

[Gives Sylvia telephone and strides angrily about.] 

SYLVIA 

Hello, dear! . . . Yes, it's me. . . . It's your marm. 
[Brooke bangs angrily on table.] Ssh! Stop your 
noise. . . . Where are you? ... I see. . . . Yes, yes. 
Oh! Well, try to catch it. . . . They won't keep you 
as late as all that. Please try. Do. . . . No, you 
won't disturb us at all. [Brooke again bangs angrily.] 
All right. [Smiling.] Of course I understand. 
[Brooke again bangs angrily.] It's your father throw- 
ing things. . . . We're not afraid of him, are we? We 

[82] 



Act I: BOYHOOD 

know he loves us. [Brooke gives an angry movement.^ 
Try to. . . . Yes, if you don't come I'll understand. 
[Brooke goes to take receiver. Sylvia calls hur- 
riedly.] Look out! Good-bye. 

[Hangs up receiver before Brooke can take it. He 

takes telephone, quickly removes the receiver but 

finds he has been cut off.] 

BROOKE 

Hello — hello — hello — Leonard ! Damn ! They've cut 
him off. [Replaces telephone.] 

SYLVIA 

He was afraid we'd be waiting up in case he missed 
the last train. 

BROOKE 

[Exasperated.] He mustn't miss it. 

SYLVIA 

Of course he won't. 

SAXON 

Hasn't he a latch-key? 

SYLVIA 

Oh, yes. Ever so long. But he rarely has to use it. 
We're always up. 

SAXON 

Hasn't he ever stayed out all night? 

SYLVIA 

Never. 

SAXON 

[Smiles suggestively.] That'll come. It will. [To 
Brooke.] Won't it? 

[83] 



THE HARP OF LIFE 

BROOKE 

[Severely.] I wish you wouldn't judge every boy 
by your own. 

SYLVIA 

But supposing he did stay out? What of it? Where 
would be the harm? 

SAXON 

None in the world. It would be educational. Eh? 
[To Brooke.] 

SYLVIA 

Why? 

BROOKE 

He feels that degradation is a necessary part of a 
boy's life. 

SYLVIA 

Do you? 

SAXON 

Well, they have to learn things sooner or later. The 
sooner the wiser. 

SYLVIA 

You're perfectly right. Marshall doesn't think boys 
should be told certain things. I do. 

SAXON 

You've the right idea. The home-beautiful is idyllic 
until the boy starts out swimmin' by himself. If he's 
not taught the coast-line the first nasty rock he comes 
to, one with a woman beckoning him on to it, will wreck 
him. The dear old primal instinct, bless it! Up on 
the rocks he'll go. Then where's the value of yer 
home-beautiful? Eh, old friend? 

[84] 



Act I: BOYHOOD 

BROOKE 

Leonard will never strike that rock, 

SAXON 

Why not? Most lads do. We can only warn 'em 
and tell 'em the first-aid-to-the-injured in case they 
go smash. 

BROOKE 

I don't believe in telling ugly truths to as sensitive a 
boy as Leonard. 

SYLVIA 

You're wrong, Marshall. Did you tell your son ? [To 
Saxon.] 

SAXON 

Every little thing. Hid nothing from that up. [In- 
dicates a very small child. ^^ He always had an enquir- 
ing mind. Puzzled over his first worm for days. Saw 
Providence in it. . . . Now if a small boy has curiosity 
and a seeing-eye the ordinary routine of a living-day 
can be full of instruction. Add a garden with flowers 
and pet animals and his education can ripen amazingly. 
And the wise parent doesn't shirk ripenin' it. He takes 
advantage of every detail to broaden the little mind: 
stimulate the outlook. Then, when he's ready to go 
out and do battle, plant the final seed of warning. 

SYLVIA 

That is exactly what I want him to do with Leonard. 

SAXON 

Sometimes the family physician is helpful. 
[85] 



THE HARP OF LIFE 

SYLVIA 

It would come stronger from his father. [Turning 
to Brooke.] Ah, my dear, I'm sure half the misery of 
young manhood would be avoided if boys were told be- 
fore leaving their homes that they had three alterna- 
tives in their physical life. First, self-respect and a 
decent marriage. Second, a liaison in which a decent 
girl's life is tarnished or his own nature blunted by 
contact with a courtesan. Third, vice — hideous, un- 
imaginative, repellant — with its aftermath of degrada- 
tion. If we would bring up a race of clean-thinking 
men we'd hear less of the ruined girls. 

[Brooke makes movement of annoyance.'] 

SAXON 

[To Brooke.] She's right. [To Sylvia.] How old 
is Leonard.'* He must be 

SYLVIA 

Nineteen. 

SAXON 

The ripenin' age. A youth can pass from boyhood 
to adolescence and manhood in a day — just a day. Then 
there's no looking back. They must go on. 

SYLVIA 

[Shivers at the thought.] I told him as a child of 
the beauties of nature — love, motherhood, fatherhood. 
Marshall reserved the right to tell him as a man of the 
horrors that come through the abuse of nature. And so 
far he's shirked it. 

[86] 



Act I: BOYHOOD 

BROOKE 

You know how I feel about it. 

SYLVIA 

Put his future above your sensitiveness. 

SAXON 

Sensitiveness, dear lady? Squeamishness! 

BROOKE 

If I were to tell him now he'd look for evil in every- 
thing, 

SYLVIA 

He is bound to meet it. 

BROOKE 

[Impatiently.] We've argued like this before. I'll 
leave him his illusions a little longer. 

SAXON 

[Drily.] Suppose he hasn't any now? 

SYLVIA 

[Hotly.] Indeed he has. 

SAXON 

I wish my old Dad had dropped me a word o' warnin*. 
But no. "Let him find things out for himself," he 
thought. And I did. I found 'em all right. And 
Pinkie! [To Brookei] If you hadn't met Sylvia 
where would you have landed.^ Eh? Leonard may not 
be so lucky. Wait till ye see the kind he picks out. 

[87] 



THE HARP OF LIFE 

SYLVIA 

Oh, we think we know whom Leonard will marry. 
We hope it will be Olive. 

SAXON 

Really! The little chicken? [Sylvia nods.] A 
very sweet girl. Keep the mother away or she'll spoil 
the romance. Dear me! I wish Ormonde'd pick out 
some nice girl like Olive. 

SYLVIA 

But we're not sure about Olive, though we think 
they love each other. 

SAXON 

Youth is wonderful — tragic. Touchin'. Movin'. Pa- 
thetic! [Suddenly.] If he misses his last train — an' 
I'll make a small wager he will miss it — where will he 
spend the night.'' 



With friends. 
Of his own age? 
And a little older. 



SYLVIA 
SAXON 
SYLVIA 



SAXON 

Ah! Then it's to them he'll go for knowledge if — 
[to Brooke] — you won't provide it. They know more 
about his real thoughts than either of ye. 

SYLVIA 

[Indignantly.] Indeed they do not. 

SAXON 

[To Brooke.] You? 

[88] 



Act I: BOYHOOD 

BROOKE 

I agree with Sylvia. 

SAXON 

Very well, then. I congratulate ye both on havin' 
such a charmin' an' virtuous son. May history repeat 
itself — like parents, like children ! I only hope as Olive 
grows older she don't favor her mother. That'd be 
a tragedy. Now I must run. Good-bye, Sylvia. May 
all your birthdays find you just as young, with greater 
beauty, and even more marvellous. [Brooke goes to 
see him off.] 'Bye, old sour-face. 

BROOKE 

You do talk a lot of rot. 

SAXON 

O* course I do. Ain't I an old mountebank? 

BROOKE 

You look at life cross-eyed. 

SAXON 

[Going out on to porch.] You don't look at life at 

all. [Turns to Sylvia, and kisses his fingers to her.] 

Y'r servant, Sylvia. [Goes out, followed by Brooke.] 

[Sylvia waves from window, goes to table, puts 

flowers in vase, humming a tune happily. Takes 

old flowers on to porch and throws them away. As 

she re-enters Brooke also comes in. Sylvia goes 

to table, takes vase, and puts it on piano, takes a 

red rose from bouquet. Brooke walks down to 

table very serious, with brows knit. Sylvia 

laughs lightly.] 

[89] 



THE HARP OF LIFE 

SYLVIA 

What on old cynic Godfrey is ! 
[Putting the rose in her hair.^ 

BROOKE 

[Testily.] Isn't he? 

[Gets legal hag from desk, brings it to table, opens it, 
and takes out papers. '\ 

SYLVIA 

[Looks quickly at him.] What's the matter? Are 
you cross? 

BROOKE 

I'm sorry you spoke like that — before him. I'd 
rather you didn't mention that subject before anyone 
else. 

SYLVIA 

I won't. But you will promise ? 

BROOKE 

[Angrily.] Yes! Yes! Yes! 

SYLVIA 

[Goes to him and laughs.] You're a very curious 
person. When you are overcome with affection for 
Leonard or me you always bark loudly. [Laughs again 
as she remembers.] Even on our wedding-trip I'd look 
across the table at you and you'd look back at me like 
a shy, happy boy, and then suddenly the love-mist 
would fade from your eyes and you'd snap, "Look out, 
Sylvia, the head-waiter's watching us." 

BROOKE 

[Kisses her hand.] You're a sweet woman, dear. 
[90] 



Act I: BOYHOOD 

SYLVIA 

You promise me you'll speak to Leonard? 

BROOKE 

Oh, very well. 

SYLVIA 

[After a pause. Goes to window.] Shall we go out 
for a while? The air's delicious. 

BROOKE 

[Reading legal papers.] I want to read these before 
dinner. 

SYLVIA 

Marshall ! 

BROOKE 

Yes? 

SYLVIA 

Fancy! I'm thirty-six today. 

BROOKE 

[Softening.] No one would believe it. 

SYLVIA 

That's because I've been happy. 

BROOKE 

Is it? 

SYLVIA 

[Nods.] I was lucky — I found you, 

BROOKE 

So was I — I found you. 

SYLVIA 

[Smiling happily.] And we found Leonard. 
[91] 



THE HARP OF LIFE 

BROOKE 

Yes. 

SYLVIA 

[With a sigh of happiness, sits on sofa.^ Heigho! 
It's beautiful to be a happy wife! It's wonderful to 
be an adoring mother! [After a little while.l Mar- 
shall! [He turns and looks at her, she points to the 
rose in her hair.^ Like it? 

BROOKE 

Very nice. Very nice indeed. 
[Turns back to papers.'] 

SYLVIA 

"Very nice indeed!" We must remember not to lock 
the door to-night. 

BROOKE 

Why? 

SYLVIA 

In case he has forgotten his latch-key and catches 
the last train. 

BROOKE 

Oh, yes. 

SYLVIA 

[Takes book and goes to sofa.] I hope he does catch 
it. 

BROOKE 

He will. I told him to. 

SYLVIA 

Oh! Then of course he will catch it. Marshall! 

BROOKE 

Yes? 

[92] 



Act I: BOYHOOD 

SYLVIA 

Shall we sit up for Leonard? 

BROOKE 

Certainly not. Why should we? 

SYLVIA 

I don't know. It's so lonely coming into an empty 
room — at night. 

BROOKE 

Fm not going to wait up. 

SYLVIA 

[Laughing.'\ Very well. I will. I'll exercise one 
of my privileges as a mother, and wait up. 

[She reads for a moment, then looks up, smiling hap- 
pily. Brooke pores over his papers with knit 
brows. "] 

THE CURTAIN FALLS 



[98] 



Act II: ADOLESCENCE 

The same. The following morning. 

Sylvia, pale, tired and anxious, is seated on the sofa 
unwrapping a package. She discovers a purple 
photo-frame. She smiles wanly, removes Leonard's 
photograph from the old pink and grey frame and 
places it in the new one. Brooke comes in, very 
pre-occupied and goes to the table and collects legal 
papers which he places in a brief-bag, unconsciously 
leaving one printed page on the table. He counts 
his papers and finds that one is missing. He crashes 
the brief-case down on the table, covering the miss- 
ing paper, crosses angrily to writing desk and noisily 
pulls and closes all the drawers. 

The moment he comes in Sylvia sings cheerily to cover 
any trace of her too-obvious dejection. 

SYLVIA 

Have you lost something? 

BROOKE 

[Irritably.] There's a page missing — a printed page. 
I had it here last night. I suppose it has been tidied 
into one of these drawers. I wish the maids would 

[94] 



Act II: ADOLESCENCE 

leave things where I put them, so that I could find them 
in the morning. 

[Pulling drawers out violently. '\ 

SYLVIA 

[Lifting up case and discovering missing page,'\ Is 
this it? 

BROOKE 

Yes. Where did you find it? 
[With drawer in hand.^ 

SYLVIA 

Under your bag. 

BROOKE 

[Smiles; he is quite relieved.'] You wonderful 
woman ! 

SYLVIA 

[Hands him the paper, takes the drawer from him 
and replaces it in desk.] Won't you be late? 

BROOKE 

[Placing the printed page in the bag.] No. I'm 
not in court until the afternoon. The case may not 
even be called to-day. I'll go in by the "eleven 
o'clock." You were singing. 

SYLVIA 

[Smiles brightly at him.] Thank you! Do you 
think so? 

[Sings again.] 

BROOKE 

[Taking her chin in his hand,] How tired you're 
looking! You shouldn't have waited up for Leonard 
last night. You're feeling better? 

[95] 



THE HARP OF LIFE 

SYLVIA 

Oh, much! How different everything seems in the 
morning with the sun shining! Last night I was full 
of forebodings. 

[She laughs and shivers,'] 

BROOKE 

Are all your forebodings gone? 

SYLVIA 

[Nods.] Every one. When I read Leonard's tele- 
gram they all melted. 

BROOKE 

By the way, where is that telegram? 

SYLVIA 

It's upstairs. Poor boy! Here we were blaming 
him for not telephoning, and the wretched line out of 
order all the time! 

BROOKE 

It's very odd. It was all right at this end. 

SYLVIA 

I mean at his end. How worried he must have been ! 

BROOKE 

He must have been ! What about us? 

SYLVIA 

Yes. We did worry. I'm glad we haven't got six. 

BROOKE 

Still, he ought to have told us where he was going 
to be. 

196] 



Act II: ADOLESCENCE 

SYLVIA 

Now I come to think of it, he did try to tell me some- 
thing over the telephone, but I kept insisting on his 
trying to catch the last train. So it was all my fault. 

BROOKE 

You always try to make excuses for him. 

SYLVIA 

Oh, well, that's part of a mother's business. Poor 
Leonard ! All this to-do because he dares to spend a 
night away from the family wing! No wonder some 
people marry young! I believe you only married me 
to get away from home and be able to have your own 
way. And you've never had your own way, poor dear! 
. , . You've promised me you will speak to Leonard. 

BROOKE 

I'll bring him back with me this afternoon. Leave 
us alone for a while after dinner. 

SYLVIA 

[Smiles.'] All right, dear. [Brooke goes out. 
Sylvia watches him go out, and all her brightness dies 
away. She suddenly becomes grave and stands a mo- 
ment thinking. She dismisses the thought with a sigh, 
mounts the ladder and changes the old flowers for the 
new, humming again as she does so. Leonard runs up 
on to the porch and comes in through the window. As 
soon as he sees her he stops and stands silent and em- 
barrassed. Sylvia hurries joyfully down the ladder.'] 
Oh, Leonard! I thought you might come. 

[97] 



THE HARP OF LIFE 

LEONARD 

[His eyes averted.] I've just time to change. 

SYLVIA 

[Feels the rebuff and "watches him closely.'] Is that 
why you came home? 

LEONARD 

Eh? [QuicJcly.] Oh! And to see you, of course. 
[Looks at her, then turns away.] You weren't worried 
about — last night, were you? 

SYLVIA 

[Slowly. Very disappointed.] Worried? No, not 
a bit. 

LEONARD 

[Very much relieved.] Father's gone, I suppose? 

SYLVIA 

Not yet. You can go in together. 

LEONARD 

[Visibly embarrassed.] Oh! [Nervously.] Is he 
— fussy, about — last night? 

SYLVIA 

No. I arranged that. You sent me a telegram — 
which you didn't — and the telephone was out of order 
— which it wasn't. So your father wasn't worried. 

LEONARD 

[Relieved again, but rather ashamed.] Thank you. 
That's all right. 

SYLVIA 

We did rather expect you. 
[98] 



Act II: ADOLESCENCE 

LEONARD 

But I warned you on the phone. 

SYLVIA 

Still, we thought you might try to catch it. 

LEONARD 

[Irritably.] You know what parties are. [Turns 
away to avoid his mother's look. Sees the new frame on 
mantelpiece. Quickly changes the subject.] Oh, that's 
come. The rest ought to be here to-morrow or the next 
day. [Looking at the screen and howl.] How much 
better the room looks, doesn't it? 

SYLVIA 

[Noticing his nervousness, goes over to him.] Did 
you enjoy yourself.^ 

LEONARD 

[Embarrassed.] Eh.^ Oh, yes. Pretty well. 

SYLVIA 

What did you do, play cards? 

LEONARD 

No. I hate cards. I always lose. 

SYLVIA 

Just talked? 

LEONARD 

[Hesitating.] We — a — went to a theatre. 

SYLVIA 

Oh! What did you see? 

LEONARD 

"The Isle of Palms." Comic-opera thing. 



THE HARP OF LIFE 

SYLVIA 

Any good? 

LEONARD 

Not very. Rather trashy. Tinkle-y music and a 
wretched book. 

SYLVIA 

What a pity! 

LEONARD 

Oh^ I liked it all right. Some jolly dancing. 

SYLVIA 

Any pretty girls? 

LEONARD 

[Laughs uneasily.] A few. Very few. 

SYLVIA 

Dressed in purple.^ 

LEONARD 

[Hesitates. Smiles — turns away from her."] Don't 
be silly. 

SYLVIA 

[Arranging his tie.] Let me fix your tie. Did you 
miss me.'* 

LEONARD 

[Without looking at her.] Of course. 

SYLVIA 

[Half -chaffing.] You always do. Don't you? 

LEONARD 

Rather! 

[Tries to get away.] 

SYLVIA 

[Struggling with the tie.] Were there many of you? 
[100] 



Act II: ADOLESCENCE 

LEONARD 

No. 

l^Uneasy under her inquisition,^ 

SYLVIA 

Do I know them? 

LEONARD 

[Very embarrassed.] They've never been down 
here. 

SYLVIA 

From the art-school? 

LEONARD 

[Half choked by his mother's fingers.] Look out! 
[Releases himself.] I'll finish it. I'm going to change 
it, anyway. 

SYLVIA 

Your father's going in by the "eleven o'clock.'* 
You've plenty of time. 

LEONARD 

[Indicating his clothes.] But these — I wore them 
yesterday. 

SYLVIA 

Don't you want to talk to me? 

LEONARD 

Of course I do. [Goes to her.] What a funny 
question ! 

SYLVIA 

I didn't sleep much last night, Leonard. 
[Takes his hand.] 

LEONARD 

Why not? [Scenting trouble, he takes away his hand 
[101] 



THE HARP OF LIFE 

and looks at her warily, prepared to defend himself.] 
Because I stayed out? 

SYLVIA 

[Quite hurt. Quietly.'] It wasn't that — altogether. 
[Smiles wistfully at him.'} I lay awake last night, Len, 
wondering what this will be like when you're gone. 

LEONARD 

[Starts. Looks at her with distended eyes.'] Gone? 

SYLVIA 

Yes. When you're married. [He turns away from 
her.] It will be pretty lonely for me then, won't it? 
[Watches him closely.] I wonder if I can guess what 
you are thinking? 

LEONARD 

[Defiantly, turning to her.] I don't think you can. 

SYLVIA 

I wonder? 

LEONARD 

What am I thinking? 

SYLVIA 

Aren't your thoughts of marriage? 

LEONARD 

[Hesitates; then boldly.] Yes. 

SYLVIA 

I knew it. 

LEONARD 

How did you know? 

SYLVIA 

You have had something on your mind for weeks. At 

[102] 



Act II: ADOLESCENCE 

times — like yesterday — youVe almost told me. Haven't 
you? 

LEONARD 

Yes. 

SYLVIA 

You are in love? 

LEONARD 

Yes. 

SYLVIA 

You are bad at keeping secrets. After all, why have 
one from me? And such a vital one? Have you told 
— Olive — you love her? 

LEONARD 

[Turns to her.] Olive? Oh, it's not Olive. 

SYLVIA 

[Looks at him curiously, without surprise.] It's not 
Olive? You're in love, and it's not Olive? Who is 
it, then? 

LEONARD 

[Avoiding her looJc.] You've never met her. 

SYLVIA 

Why haven't I met her? 

LEONARD 

I've not known her very long. 

SYLVIA 

How long? 

LEONARD 

A few weeks. 

SYLVIA 



So love has come to you! 

[103] 



THE HARP OF LIFE 

LEONARD 

Yes, mother. 

SYLVIA 

I*m sure she*s very beautiful. 

LEONARD 

[Eagerly. 1 She is. 

SYLVIA 

[Wistfully.'] You'll never think me pretty any more. 

LEONARD 

[Distressed.l Of course I will. 

SYLVIA 

I am to lose my admirer — my play-fellow — my son. 

LEONARD 

Don't say that. I'll always love you and admire you. 
Always. Really, I will. 

SYLVIA 

That was why you didn't kiss me when you came 
in. You need her kisses — her hands — her voice. [Sits 
forlornly on the lounge.] I seem suddenly to have 
grown old. Quite, quite old. 

[Beating one hand against the other — her face 
drawn. ] 

LEONARD 

[Quite distressed, bends over her.] You have so 
often said it would come. And you have laughed and 
joked about it. 

SYLVIA 

I know. But now that it has, I can't just grasp it. 
It — it hurts. I haven't even seen her. Perhaps it's 
[104] 



Act II: ADOLESCENCE 

because I don't know her. That must be it. [Tries to 
smile.^ Because you found her for yourself. It must 
be jealousy. You've met someone so much prettier than 
I am and you love her, oh, so much more than you do 
me. That's it. Jealousy. [Struggles to get complete 
control of herself and talk in a matter-of-fact way.'\ 
Tell me about her. What is her name.^ 

LEONARD 

Mrs. Vorona. 

[It slips out. He looks frightenedly at his mother, 
then turns away.^ 

SYLVIA 

[Looks at him in amazement. Goes over to him.'\ 
Mrs.? 

LEONARD 

[As if correcting himself. '\ Zeila Vorona. 

SYLVIA 

She's been married.'* 

LEONARD 

Yes. 

SYLVIA 

A widow? 

LEONARD 

No. She's been divorced. 

SYLVIA 

[As if afraid to ask further questions."] Is she quite 
young .^ 

LEONARD 

No. Not quite. But what does that matter? 

SYLVIA 

You frighten me. 

[105] 



THE HARP OF LIFE 

LEONARD 

Why? 

SYLVIA 

[Suddenly, as if thrusting a terrifying thought from 
her, she cries out:] Oh, no! That would be too hor- 
rible! Too horrible! ! 

LEONARD 

Horrible! Why? [Hotly.] She's everything that's 
fine and splendid. Because she made a mistake and 
married when she was too young to know what men are 
— some men — must her whole life be spoilt? 

SYLVIA 

No. Of course not. Where did you meet her? 

LEONARD 

One of my chums took me. 

SYLVIA 

Took you? 

LEONARD 

Well? What's so very extraordinary in that? 

SYLVIA 

Nothing. Only- . So one of your chums took you 

to call on her and you fell in love with her ? 

LEONARD 

Yes. 

SYLVIA 

And she with you? 

LEONARD 

I think so. 

[106] 



Act II: ADOLESCENCE 

SYLVIA 

Why didn't you tell me then? I would have under^ 
stood^ and sympathised^ and helped you. You know that^ 

LEONARD 

I don't know. One doesn't talk about everything. 

SYLVIA 

You used to. 

LEONARD 

It seemed too sacred. Besides, I didn't know until 
yesterday whether she really cared for me. I couldn't 
talk about it — to anyone. 

SYLVIA 

Not even to me ? I've been young too^ Leonard. Don't 
hide anything from me. 

LEONARD 

[Ashamed, half whispers.'] I'm sorry, Mother. It 
was rotten of me. I feel that now. ... I couldn't bring 
myself to say anything until I was sure she cared. That's 
the real reason. 

SYLVIA 

And you've asked her to marry you? 

LEONARD 

Yes. 

SYLVIA 

She's consented? 

LEONARD 

Yes. But only after a lot of bother. It's wretched 
being so young. But I made her understand. Age 
[107] 



THE HARP OF LIFE 

doesn't count when one's in love. It was really splendid 
of her to accept me — fine of her. She's wonderful. 

SYLVIA 

[Thinking.] When did you ask her? 

LEONARD 

Last night. 

SYLVIA 

So when I was waiting for you — hoping even to hear 
your voice on that telephone — you had already asked 
someone I have never met to marry you. You had no 
thought of me then, had you? You never meant to catch 
the last train, did you.'' 

LEONARD 

Don't make it too hard for me. 

SYLVIA 

Oh, I didn't mean to talk like a mother. 

LEONARD 

You'd have been all smiles and congratulations if it 
had been Olive. 

SYLVIA 

Yes, Leonard, I would. You're both children. You'd 
have begun life together. She'd have given you her 
first love. But a woman who is not quite young and has 
been married 

LEONARD 

[Angrily.] Well? And if she has? Lots of men 
marry widows. Would you have objected if she had 
been ? 

[108] 



Act II: ADOLESCENCE 

SYLVIA 

It's all so different from what I hoped. 

LEONARD 

It's wretched to be doubted — and suspected — and 

SYLVIA 

[All pity.] I don't doubt you. I am sure that, next 
to me — she is the very best woman to make you happy. 
IWist fully.] There. Don't be cross with your poor old 
mother. 

LEONARD 

[Relieved.] You will be nice to her when you meet 
her, won't you? 

SYLVIA 

Why, Len, isn't she going to be my daughter? 

LEONARD 

Your daughter? [Looks strangely at her and repeats 
slowly.] Your daughter! How funny that sounds! 
You don't look any older than she does. 

SYLVIA 

Don't I? 

LEONARD 

No. [Suddenly.] Oh, she's had such a miserable 
life. It's wretched for some women, isn't it? 

SYLVIA 

[Looking intently at him.] It must be — for some 
women. 

LEONARD 

You don't know much of the world. Father's kept 
[109] 



THE HARP OF LIFE 

you away from it. And a good thing, too ! It's not nice 
for a woman. A man sees it all. He's in the thick of it. 

SYLVIA 

Are you in the thick of it.-* 

LEONARD 

[With affected manliness.^ Oh, yes! Rather! I've 
heard some dreadful things lately — awful things. 

SYLVIA 

I was afraid you would. 

LEONARD 

One can't be a molly-coddle always — especially when 
one's out in life. Really in life. You have to rub 
shoulders with people and hear things. Makes you pretty 
sick, though — at first. 

SYLVIA 

[Her heart sinking.^ It must. 

LEONARD 

[Goes on impulsively. 1 Still! There's no use blink- 
ing. You've got to look life straight in the face — when 
you're a man. But it does give you a rotten feeling — 
at first. You know — as if you'd lost something. [With 
a sudden burst of revelation, as he sits on arm of sofa, 

facing Sylvia.] One of the chaps told me that 

[Brooke enters, stops when he sees Leonard and stands 
looking at him with knit brows.^ Good morning. Father. 
[ HaXf-defian tly.] 

BROOKE 

[Walks across to him. Sylvia rises and watches 
anxiously, ready to intervene.] In future, if you are 

[110] 



Act II: ADOLESCENCE 

going to stay out, tell one of us where you are. Sup- 
pose your mother had been ill last night! I wouldn't 
have known where to reach you. Don't do that again. 

LEONARD 

[Faintly and sullenly, all the affected-manliness gone.^ 
All right. 

BROOKE 

Another thing. I didn't like your telephoning from 
the station. Why not have told us before you went? 

LEONARD 

I forgot to. 

BROOKE 

[Sharply.] What? 

LEONARD 

[Defiantly.] I tell you, I forgot to. 

BROOKE 

Wasn't it because you knew we'd ask you where you 
were going to spend the night? 

LEONARD 

No. It wasn't. 

BROOKE 

Where did you spend it? 

LEONARD 

With a friend. 

BROOKE 

Whom? 

LEONARD 

[Hesitates.] Atherley. Ned Atherley. I don't know 
why you take this tone with me. 

[Ill] 



THE HARP OF LH^E 

BROOKE 

Don't you? Then 1*11 tell you. It's the first time 
you've shown your mother such deliberate lack of con- 
sideration. 

SYLVIA 

Oh, come dear! He didn't 

BROOKE 

[Stops her. Continues to Leonard."] It would have 
been a very little thing to have eased her mind by saying 
where you were going, and you wouldn't have lost a 
shred of manliness by doing it. 

SYLVIA 

Don't say that, dear. Really, he forgot There were 
so many people here yesterday. It was quite natural. 

LEONARD 

[Full of his wrongs.'] If I can't stay out once with- 
out all this 

BROOKE 

You are at liberty to stay out whenever you please, 
but you must tell us where you are going. [More gently.] 
If you had seen her waiting here — hoping you'd come, or 
at least send a message where you were, and known her 
anxiety, I think you would be a little ashamed. Please 
don't do it again. [Goes to table.] 

LEONARD 

[To Sylvia.] I'm very sorry. I didn't think you'd 
worry like that. I'm so sorry. 

SYLVIA 

That's all right, dear. 

[Motions him to escape while his father's hack is 
[112] 



Act II: ADOLESCENCE 

turned to him. Leonard goes softly to door and 
opens it.'\ 

BROOKE 

[Looks around just as Leonard is going out.'] No 
school to-day? 

LEONARD 

Oh^ yes. I'll be a little late. I thought I'd come home 
to change first. 

BROOKE 

You needn't do that. Come along with me. I'm going 
now. [Gathering up his papers.] 

LEONARD 

[Anxious to avoid going in with his father.] But 
these! [Indicating his clothes.] 

BROOKE 

They're all right. I want to talk to you on the train. 
I'll catch the five this afternoon. [To Sylvia.] 

SYLVIA 

[Nervously.] Very well, dear. A — perhaps he'd 
feel more comfortable in fresh things. 

BROOKE 

[Severely.] He looks quite well enough as he is. 
[To Leonard.] Come on! 

SYLVIA 

You mustn't keep angry, dear. I thought it was all 
over. 

BROOKE 

[Smiles rather wearily.] I didn't mean to be. We're 
both on edge this morning. We all need a holiday. Could 
you be ready by JVIonday? 

[113] 



THE HARP OF LIFE 

SYLVIA 

[Joyfully.] Oh, yes. Where shall we go? 

BROOKE 

We'll make it for him this year. [Looking at Leon- 
ard.] I'll take him where he'll find new subjects for 
his brush. You'll come back with a full wallet, my lad. 

SYLVIA 

Where .^ 

BROOKE 

Spain. 

SYLVIA 

[Delighted.] I've always wanted to see Spain. 

BROOKE 

[To Leonard.] Paint nature in her own colours. 
You'll do more there in two months than in a year at 
the school. 

LEONARD 

[In dismay.] Two months? 

BROOKE 

Perhaps a week or two longer. We'll see. 

LEONARD 

[Very white and determined.] I couldn't gjo away 
for two months — just now. 

BROOKE 

Why not? 

LEONARD 

I couldn't. [Mutters.] Not two months. 

BROOKE 

You can go on with your drawing just the same. 
[114] 



Act II: ADOLESCENCE 

LEONARD 

It isn't that. 

BROOKE 

What is it, then? 

LEONARD 

I can't go. That's all. I can't. 

SYLVIA 

[Interposing to prevent a burst of anger from 
Brooke.] It will be very hot in Spain. Couldn't we 
go somewhere nearer? 

BROOKE 

[B rotas knit, looking keenly at Leonard.] Why 
don't you want to go ? 

LEONARD 

[Doggedly.] I can't. And what's more, I won't, 

BROOKE 

[Angrily.] What's that? 

LEONARD 

[Vehemently.] I tell you, I won't, 

BROOKE 

I don't like your tone, my boy. 

SYLVIA 

Now, Marshall, dear 

LEONARD 

[To Sylvia.] He may as well know now as later. 
[To Brooke.] I'm going to be married. 

BROOKE 

[Straightens up, looks at him for several seconds, then 
repeats in amazement.] Married? 
[115] 



THE HARP OF LIFE 

LEONARD 

Yes. 

BROOKE 

When? 

LEONARD 

As soon as possible. 

BROOKE 

To whom? 

LEONARD 

To Zeila Vorona. 

BROOKE 

I don't know her. 

LEONARD 

I know that. 

BROOKE 

[To Sylvia.] Do you? 

SYLVIA 

\_QuicJcly, anxious to smooth matters.'] Not yet. But 
I feel I do. He's told me so much about her. 

BROOKE 

When did he tell you ? 

SYLVIA 

Just now. 

BROOKE 

[To Leonard.] You asked her to marry you without 
consulting us? 

LEONARD 

Why shouldn't I? 

BROOKE 

[Grimly.'] Exactly! Why shouldn't you? But, as a 
rule one is rather proud of the woman one is going to 
marry. 

[116] 



Act II: ADOLESCENCE 

LEONARD 

I am. 

BROOKE 

You must be ! Very proud ! To keep her hidden from 
your parents. 

LEONARD 

[Hotly.'] I've only known her a few weeks. 

BROOKE 

And during those weeks you think so little of our in- 
terest in the woman you want to marry that you say 
nothing. Why.^ [Waits.] What's wrong, my boy? 

LEONARD 

Nothing's wrong. 

BROOKE 

You weren't going to tell me now if I hadn't suggested 
taking you away. Were you.'' [Waits. Then loudly.] 
Were you? 

SYLVIA 

[Putting her hand on Brooke's arm.] Don't, dear! 
Don't! 

BROOKE 

Were you? 

LEONARD 

Yes. Later. 

BROOKE 

Oh ! Later! When I became engaged to your mother 
I wanted everyone to know it. 

SYLVIA 

Don't make him feel badly. 

BROOKE 

Badly! How do you suppose / feel? How do we 
know who or what this woman is ? 
[117] 



THE HARP OF LIFE 

LEONARD 

[Furiously.] She's just as good as my mother. 

BROOKE 

I hope so. 

SYLVIA 

[Her arm protectingly around Leonard.] I'm sure 
she is. 

LEONARD 

[Trembling with passion, trying to release himself.] 
Why does he ? 

SYLVIA 

[Holding him firmly.] Don't, dear! Don't! [To 
Brooke.] You mustn't be angry because he didn't tell 
us sooner. It's quite natural. 

BROOKE 

I don't think so. It seems most wnnatural to me. 

LEONARD 

You didn't consult anyone, did you? 

BROOKE 

It isn't altogether that. Where there's nothing to be 
ashamed of there's nothing to conceal. 

LEONARD 

[Excitedly.] You've no right to think there's any- 
thing to conceal. I didn't speak sooner because I thought 
you'd make a fuss like this. And I hate scenes. There's 
nothing to hide. [Almost in tears.] I'm proud of her. 
Grateful to her. I love her. 

[Sylvia tries to comfort him.] 
[118] 



Act II: ADOLESCENCE 

BROOKE 

[Watching him closely, allows the outburst to subside 
and then resumes his examination.'] So you didn't tell 
us before because you were frightened I'd make a fuss — 
a scene — eh? 

LEONARD 

Yes. 

BROOKE 

Was that your only reason? 

LEONARD 

What else? 

BROOKE 

I don't know "what else". 
[Sylvia tries to intervene.] 

Wait a minute. [To Leonard.] That's for you to 
say. Where does she live? 

LEONARD 

In town. 

BROOKE 

When are we to meet her? 

LEONARD 

Whenever you like. 

BROOKE 

The sooner the better. 

!-,EONARD 

AU right. 

BROOKE 

This changes everything. Everything. [Moves about 
restlessly. Stops in front of Sylvia.] What do you 
say ? Disappointed ? 

[119] 



THE HARP OF LH^E 

SYLVIA 

[Brocvely: smiling cheerfully.'] Of course not. Why 
should I be? He loves her. He'll be happy. That's 
all I care. 

BROOKE 

I don't like it. 

LEONARD 

What don't you like.^ My choosing a wife, instead 
of having one chosen for me — by you^ 

SYLVIA 

[Checking him.] Don't, Leonard! Don't! 

LEONARD 

[Shaking himself free.] Oh, it's awful, having every- 
thing done for you. Do, for Heaven's sake, let a man live 
his own life. 

BROOKE 

But you're not a man. 

LEONARD 

Aren't I? Then what constitutes manhood? 

BROOKE 

To have lived — loved — and suffered. 

LEONARD 

I love. And — [Almost crying agcdn.] — I'm suffering 
now. [Covers his eyes,] 

SYLVIA 

[Compassionately.] Oh, Leonard! Marshall! [Looks 
piteously at Brooke.] 

BROOKE 

[Goes to Leonard, puts both his hands on the boy's 
shoulders.] I see you are. I didn't want you to do that. 

[120] 



Act II: ADOLESCENCE 

My doing — I've said things — the heat of the moment. 
It came as such a surprise. A shock. [Shakes Leonard 
in a kindly way.'] Sorry^ old man. 

LEONARD 

[Choking back his tears.] You didn't think me cap- 
able of loving — did you? 

BROOKE 

No. I suppose I didn't. I fancy we've both thought 
of you as a child. [To Sylvia.] Haven't we.^ 

SYLVIA 

[Anxious to bring them together.] And it was very 
stupid of us. We see now he's a man, don't we ? [Signs 
to Brooke to agree with her.] 

BROOKE 

[Heartily.] Of course we do. Well, we must get 
accustomed to the new conditions. [To Leonard.] So 
your boyhood has gone.'' 

LEONARD 

Oh, quite. 

BROOKE 

From now on you want to be treated as a man. 

LEONARD 

Well, you see, when a fellow 

BROOKE 

All right. All right. We'll do it. Have you no 
regrets ? 

LEONARD 

For what? "^ 

BROOKE 

The passing of your boyhood? 
[121] 



THE HARP OF LIFE 

LEONARD 

No. None. 

BROOKE 

[To Sylvia.] Doesn't that seem rather ungrateful — 
to youf 

SYLVIA 

[Hurriedly, with a little forced laugh.^ Why^ not 
at all. I'm happy in his happiness. [To Leonard.] 
And you are happy, dear, aren't you? 

LEONARD 

[Gasping miserably through half-sobs.^ Oh, yes. I'm 
— happier — than I ever thought I could be. 

[Turns away shamefacedly and wipes his eyes.l^ 

BROOKE 

[Looks at Sylvia. She motions him to make it wp.] 
Don't take what I said the wrong way. You caught me 
unawares. I'm sure she's everything you think her. 
Sylvia and I will be just as proud of her as you are. 
There, my lad. All over. [Leonard rises and turns 
to face him.1 All gone. 

LEONARD 

[His eyes cast down.] I'm so ashamed — for saying 
the things I did — and losing my temper. Rotten thing 
of me to do. You've been so — splendid to me — always. 
A little rough on me now and again — and all that — but 
— on the whole — splendid. [Looks up at Brooke.] 
Won't happen again. [Holds out his hand.] Let by- 
gones be by-gones. I will if you will. 

[122] 



Act II: ADOLESCENCE 

BROOKE 

[Laughing heartily and gripping his hand,'\ Well, 
that's very nice and generous of you, and I appreciate 
it. We've fought it out like a couple of men. Now we 
shake hands and throw away the gloves. [Drops 
Leonardos hand. Looks at his watch.'] Hello! We've 
missed the eleven o'clock. Run along and change. It'll 
cool you off and make you feel better. Go on. 

LEONARD 

[Anxious to escape, runs out, gasping.] I won't be 
long. I'll just change my tie. 

BROOKE 

[Looks at Sylvia, gives a gesture of hopelessness, 
sinks into chair, head in hands and sighs.] What a 
pity ! What a great pity ! 

SYLVIA 

[Shivers in spite of herself, goes to Brooke.] You 
mustn't feel that. 

BROOKE 

He's such a boy. A child. 

SYLVIA 

I know. Still 

BROOKE 

Did he tell you anything about her? 

SYLVIA 

Very little. [Quickly.] It was all in her favour. 

BROOKE 

I'll get him to take me there to-day. I'll invite her 
down here this week-end. 

[123] 



THE HARP OF LIFE 

SYLVIA 

But Leonard may not like to 

BROOKE 

Why shouldn't he? [Firmly.'] I'm going to meet 
her to-day. 

SYLVIA 

[Sighs wearily,] Very well. 

BROOKE 

[Thinks: then regretfully.] What a pity! He's 
such a boy. 

SYLVIA 

How old were you when you asked me to marry you? 

BROOKE 

Oh, I was twenty-one. 

SYLVIA 

Yes — an old man. 
[Brooke laughs and pats her hand.] 
We were engaged for weeks before we told. Re- 
member ? 

BROOKE 

Yes. But I wanted to tell everyone. 

SYLVIA 

I didn't. I felt just the same as Leonard. It seemed 
too sacred to tell. 

BROOKE 

Well, I hope it turns out as happily, dear. 

SYLVIA 

[Quickly.] Oh, it will. Of course it will. 
[Leonard hurries back. He has changed his collar 
[124] 



Act II: ADOLESCENCE 

and tie. He now wears a purple one. He picks up 

his hat. Brooke and Sylvia rise the moment he 

comes in. Brooke goes toward door. Sylvia 

meets Leonard.] 

[Looking at his tie.] Oh! Purple! Well, well! 

And, like Napoleon, you've wept over it! [Rubs the 

spot with her handkerchief and pats his face.] You 

really are a baby, Len. 

LEONARD 

[Protestingly.] I say, mother 

SYLVIA 

Oh, it*s only to me that you're a baby, and I won't 
tell anyone. 

LEONARD 

[Gets away quickly from her.] I'll catch the "five" 
as well, mother. 

SYLVIA 

All, right, dear. 

[Goes down between them to say "Good-bye".] 

BROOKE 

[Has taken his hat from Ottoman, crosses to Sylvia, 
kisses her left cheek.] Good-bye. 

LEONARD 

[Kisses her right cheek at the same time.] Good- 
bye. 

SYLVIA 

My two children. 

BROOKE 

H'm! Yes! [Looks at watch and crosses to door.\ 
Bring my bag, Leonard. 

[125] 



THE HARP OF LIFE 

[They both go out. Sylvia watches them through 
the open door. Stands thinking. Then she looks 
wistfully at the new purple frame and sighs. Then 
looks at the new screen and howl and gives a hope- 
less, forlorn gesture. She closes up the step-ladder 
and takes it out on to porch. As she puts it down 
she sees someone in the distance. She waves and 
cries out: 

SYLVIA 

Oh! Elizabeth! Don't go round to the door. Come 
in this way. [Laughs.^ What a climb it is ! 

[Mrs. Hood toils wearily onto the porch followed by 
Olive. Mrs. Hood is out of breath, flushed, and 
angry. Olive is pale and anxious. Sylvia shakes 
hands with Mrs. Hood and kisses Olive. Mrs. 
Hood sits in arm-chair.'] 

You've missed Marshall and Leonard. 

MRS. HOOD 

[Gloomily sitting bolt upright.] Is that so? 

SYLVIA 

You must have come by the lower road. 

MRS. HOOD 

I did. 

[There is a dead pause. Sylvia feels there is some- 
thing wrong, but hesitates about beginning anything 
unpleasant.] 

Well? What are we going to do? 

SYLVIA 

[Brightening up.] Anything. I have the whole 
morning before me. Let us have a game at something. 

[126] 



Act II: ADOLESCENCE 

MRS. HOOD 

Game! I don't play games. 

SYLVIA 

Well, we'll play some indoor game. I have heaps I 
play with Leonard. 

MRS. HOOD 

How can you stand there smiling and smirking? 

SYLVIA 

What do you want me to do.^ Frown? 

MRS. HOOD 

Don't tell me Leonard hasn't told you! 

SYLVIA 

Told me what? 

MRS. HOOD 

What he's done to Olive. 

SYLVIA 

[Looks frightenedly at Olive, then at Mrs. Hood* 
Faintly:^ What has he done? 

MRS. HOOD 

Ruined her life. 

OLIVE 

Mother's quite wrong. He 

MRS. HOOD 

[Jumping in on her.] Stop! [To Sylvia.] I 
thought there was something wrong yesterday evening 
when she wouldn't eat her dinner — girls of her age 
don't refuse their food for nothing. This morning she 
had a headache — wasn't well enough to come down to 
breakfast. Then I knew something was the matter.^ 
[127] 



THE HARP OF LIFE 

So I just wormed it out of her. Your son is the cause 
of her headache and heartache. A snake in the grass, 
that's what your son, Leonard, is. 

OLIVE 

[Very distressed.'] Mother! 

MRS. HOOD 

Hold your tongue! [To Sylvia.] A snake in the 
grass. 

SYLVIA 

Don't say that. 

MRS. HOOD 

What do you call it.^ 

SYLVIA 

[Bewildered.'] Call what? 

MRS. HOOD 

Weren't they as good as engaged? 

SYLVIA 

I would hardly say that. We thought they might be. 

MRS. HOOD 

He's ruined her life — that's what he's done. 

SYLVIA 

I don't believe it. 

OLIVE 

It's not true. 

MRS. HOOD 

[Glares at Olive, turns to Sylvia.] What else is it 
but ruin to a child with her nature when a young ne'er- 
do-well, after leading her — and everyone else — ^to think 
he was in love with her, suddenly turns round and tells 

[128] 



Act II: ADOLESCENCE 

her he's not? That he won't marry her, and never 
meant to. 

OLIVE 

[Rises and walks away.'] Oh! 

MRS. HOOD 

[Nodding toward Olive.] There! Did you see 
that.** She wouldn't have dared get up and walk away 
while I was speaking yesterday afternoon. Now look 
at her ! . . . Olive could marry the best. 

SYLVIA 

I'm sure she could. Please don't shout at me. 

MRS. HOOD 

Like a couple of fools, we set our hearts on him. I 
wish we'd never seen him — nor any of you. 

OLIVE 

Mother ! 

MRS. HOOD 

Look at her! Her life is ruined — ^unless you step in. 

SYLVIA 

What can I do.^ 

MRS. HOOD 

Do? What I would if he were my son, and he'd 
ruined a girl. 

SYLVIA 

Why do you keep saying "ruined"? 

OLIVE 

Mother's quite wrong. 

[129] 



THE HARP OF LIFE 

MRS. HOOD 

There, do you see that? Never a word of contradic- 
tion out of her lips until to-day. Can't you see she's 
been ruined.^ Thrown over by your precious son? 

OLIVE 

He didn't throw me over. We were never engaged. 
He never asked me to marry him. 

MRS. HOOD 

You see how she defends him ? And her heart broken ! 
Isn't that devotion? 

SYLVIA 

But she's right. There was no engagement. 

MRS. HOOD 

They were as good as engaged. Everyone knew that. 

SYLVIA 

Not through me. I've never mentioned it. I was wait- 
ing for Leonard to tell me. You make me miserable 
when you tell me that Olive has taken it so much to heart. 
But she would be infinitely unhappier if Leonard mar- 
ried her not loving her, just because we thought he 
should. 

MRS. HOOD 

Who wants him to love her? It's all stuff and non- 
sense the talk about love. So long as a girl is nice- 
looking and well-behaved and comes of respectable 
people what does it matter which girl a boy marries? 

OLIVE 

Oh! You don't know how ridiculous that sounds. 
[130] 



Act II: ADOLESCENCE 

MRS. HOOD 

Ridiculous! [To Sylvia.] You see! Do you think 
she's ever called anything I*ve said ridiculous before.'* 
Never! . . . Your son has got to marry some time. 
They all do. Very well! Let him marry her. 

OLIVE 

Oh! 

SYLVIA 

That's impossible. 

MRS. HOOD 

Why is it? 

SYLVIA 

Because he's engaged to be married. 

[Olive turns round slowly and looks at Sylvia.] 

MRS. HOOD 

[In blank astonishment. 1 Engaged? Then what ex- 
cuse has he got for treating Olive as he has? 

OLIVE 

[Suddenly rising and facing her mother.'] He doesn't 
need any excuse. It will not make the slightest dif- 
ference to me. 

MRS. HOOD 

Olive ! 

OLIVE 

[Goes straight over to her mother.] You've made all 
kinds of cruel and absurd charges against Leonard — 
charges so ridiculous and unjust that you make me 
ashamed of being your daughter. 

MRS. HOOD 

Ashamed oi me? 

[131] 



THE HARP OF LH^E 

OLIVE 

Yes. Ashamed that I should have a mother who 
could show so little thought for another's feelings. 
Sylvia, Leonard has never made love to me, has never 
asked me to marry him. And the fact that he isn't going 
to is a matter of absolute indifference to me. 

MRS. HOOD 

Olive, how dare you.^ 

OLIVE 

Wait until IVe finished. I've let you say what youVe 
liked all my life without contradiction about things that 
didn't matter. They were not worth contradicting. But 
now that you've brought Leonard's honour into question 
I want to deny the truth of everything you've said about 
him. Sylvia, Leonard has always treated me generously, 
unselfishly, nobly. But for his kindness and under- 
standing and pity I don't know how I should have lived 
through the last few years. And now to hear him abused 
and insulted when he is not here to defend himself, 
and about me, is unbearable. He is everything that is 
chivalrous and fine. And I'm glad that he's found 
someone worthy of his love. Because I don't love him. 
I don't love him. I don't love him. 

[The strain has been too great. She buries her face 
in her hands and weeps on Sylvia's shoulder.^ 

I don't want to marry him. I never wanted to marry 
him. I wouldn't marry him. 

[Sylvia puts her arms sympathetically round herJ] 

[Mrs. Hood rises, and is about to speak to Olive.] 
[132] 



Act H: ADOLESCENCE 

SYLVIA 

[Quietly.^ I shouldn't say any more just now. 

MRS. HOOD 

We'll talk this over when I get you home, my girl. 

OLIVE 

[Facing her mother defiantly. 1 No, we will not. If 
you ever speak of Leonard again as you did just now, 
I'll go straight out of the house to any relative who'll 
take me in. 

MRS. HOOD 

[Grimly.] Oh, will you? 

OLIVE 

I will. I have my own life to live, wretched as it may 
be, and because you're my mother you have no right to 
make it one long torture. You've never tried to under- 
stand me. You've just asserted your authority over me 
as a mother until I hate the very word, "mother." 

MRS. HOOD 

Olive! 

OLIVE 

[Weakly and despairingly.'] If I had anywhere else 
to go I wouldn't go back with you now. [To Sylvia.] 
I'm so unhappy. So wretchedly unhappy. 

[She hides her head on Sylvia's shoulder. The sound 
of a man whistling comes in through the open win- 
dow. They all start — Olive in alarm, Mrs. Hood 
in anger. Sylvia listens anxiously. Olive's teeth 
are chattering with fear.] 
[1S3] 



THE HARP OF LITE 

Has he come back? Leonard? I couldn't bear to 
see him ! I couldn't ! I couldn't ! 

SYLVIA 

[Tries to quiet her,"] Ssh! Ssh! My dear Olive — it 
can't be Leonard. 

[Goes out through window onto porch and looks 

down the pathway. Comes back and speaks to 

Olive.] 
Mr. Saxon. 

MRS. HOOD 

[In disgust.] I couldn't bear to see him in my present 
state of mind. [To Olive.] As you have no other rela- 
tives to go to perhaps you'll come home with your 
mother. 

[Saxon appears on porch, and looks in through the 
window. He is in a well-worn country walking- 
suit, knee-breeches, gaiters, peaked cap, and carries 
a stout, knotted stick.] 

SAXON 

[Doffing his cap with a flourish.] Well, well! This 
is a pleasant sight for an old man. Two roses. That's 
what ye are. A pale 'un an' a pink 'un. H'are ye this 
lovely mornin'? [Shakes hands with Sylvia.] I needn't 
ask. No flower fairer [shakes Olive's limp hand] and 
little "Miss Forget-me-not" ? How is your dear mother ? 
Surely she hasn't let you out alone? 

[Mrs. Hood snorts.] 

[Listens.] That sounds strangely familiar. [Slowly 
turns and sees Mrs. Hood.] Ah! There she is. As 

[184] 



Act II: ADOLESCENCE 

large as life. [Goes to her with outstretched hands.^ 
Honest and ruddy with the joy of life and a clear con- 
science. [Takes Mrs. Hood's unwilling hand.^ It does 
one's heart good to look at ye this wonderful day. [Looks 
curiously at her with his keen twinkling eyes.^ Ye car- 
ry a benediction with ye. Always lookin' for good in 
everythin' and [looks at Olive] findin' it. 

MRS. HOOD 

[Irritably.'] You can talk more nonsense 

SAXON 

Flatterer! Nonsense is for youth. [Languishingly.'] 
If I were only a year or two younger an' you a year or 
two older 

MRS. HOOD 

Olive. [Goes indignantly across the room to the 
door.] 

SAXON 

Ye carry my heart with ye, dear lady. 

MRS. HOOD 

Come, Olive. [Goes out without replying to or even 
looking at him.] 

SAXON 

[Winks at Sylvia; then noticing the gravity of her 
face.] Am I in the way.^* 

SYLVIA 

No. Just a minute, Godfrey. 

SAXON 

Right. [Goes out on porch and lights a cigar.] 
[135] 



THE HARP OF LIFE 

SYLVIA 

[Her arm around Olive.] It was splendid of you 
to defend Leonard. 

OLIVE 

But Sylvia, I don't love him — really I don't love him. 
[In distress.] Oh, you mustn't think 

SYLVIA 

I don't think. I know you love him, and I'm bitterly 
disappointed that you're not going to be his wife. You 
have character, Olive. But don't lose your sweetness. 
And you mustn't be too hard on your mother. 

OLIVE 

[Struggling to control herself,] Please — don't! I — 

can't — trust — myself — to — to [Sylvia impulsively 

takes Olive in her arms and kisses her.] 

MRS. HOOD 

[Calls outside.] Olive! 

[Sylvia and Olive go out together.] 

[SaxoN looks in, sees that the room is empty, comes in 
from the porch, his hands plunged deep in the cross- 
pockets of his breeches, his brows knit, his whole 
attitude one of dejection. 

[Sylvia returns, closes the door, stands thinking a 
moment, troubled: then turns to Saxon.] 

SAXON 

[Watching her keenly.] The child had been cryin*? 

SYLVIA 

Yes. 

[136] 



Act II: ADOLESCENCE 

SAXON 

Poor kid. Tears sting at her age. They have more 
salt in 'em. At mine the ducts are dry. . . . Youth 
thinks life so serious. They've no idea how amusin' it 
really is. [Chuckles mirthlessly.'] Poor kid. I'll wager 
that mother's at the bottom of it. Makes ye want to weep 
to even look at her. But to live with [Shivers vio- 
lently.'] Bit upset yerself, ain't ye.^ 

SYLVIA 

[Rousing herself: trying to smile.] I'm all right. 

SAXON 

Rather I went? 

SYLVIA 

No, no. 

SAXON 

Marshall's gone, o' course? 

SYLVIA 

Yes. And Leonard. 

SAXON 

[Astonished.] Oh! Was he here this mornin*? 

SYLVIA 

Yes. Of course. 

SAXON 

But he didn't come home last night? Did he? 

SYLVIA 

No. 

SAXON 

[Sinks into a chair, chuckling.] I'd ha* won me 
wager. 

[137] 



THE HARP OF LIFE 

SYLVIA 

You would. 

SAXON 

Did he enjoy the theatre? . . . He went to the 
theatre. 

SYLVIA 

I know. 

SAXON 

Yes. He went. I was there, too. They sat just 
above me in a box. 

SYLVIA 

[Unconcerned.l Did they} 

SAXON 

[Nods meaningly.'] Just above me. Very nice they 
looked together, too. Delightful. The young dog. It 
gave me quite a pang. Didn't you tell me it was to be 
a "stag" party Leonard was going to.'' Just men'? Or 
did I dream it.^ 

SYLVIA 

[Ow her guard: she is suspicious of his manner.] I 
daresay he had dinner with them. 

SAXON 

Oh, no, he didn't. He was at the next table to mine 
at dinner. [She looks at him, dreading what he may 
tell her.] He was. Really. With the same companion. 
I heard him tell the head-waiter to get him a box. So 
I thought I'd trot along too. Pretty little opera. An* 
a pretty little pair they made. . . . Well.^ Ye don't 
seem surprised.^ 

[1S8] 



Act II: ADOLESCENCE 

SYLVIA 

Why should I be? 

SAXON 

Exactly. Why should ye be? They all do it. . . . 
Tho' I must admit I didn't think Leonard — somehow — 
so soon. . . . And with such a remarkable person. . . . 
Struck me as odd. . . . No? 

SYLVIA 

There was nothing odd about it. Leonard told me. 

SAXON 

[Very astonished. '\ Told ye? Well, what d'ye make 
o' that ! . . . Told ye, did he ? ThaVs a new one. When 
I was a lad we didn't tell our mothers those sort o' 
things. That we didn't. 

SYLVIA 

[With growing alarm.l What things? 

SAXON 

Oh ! Dinner en tete-a-tete and a quiet little box at a 
theatre with a — delightful companion. 

SYLVIA 

Why shouldn't Leonard tell me he went to a theatre 
with his fiancee? 

SAXON 

[Springs up and looks at her in blank amazement: 
then he growls ominously. 1 His what? Fiancee? . . . 
Did he tell ye that? 

SYLVIA 

He did. 

SAXON 

And you believed it? 

[139] 



THE HARP OF LIFE 

SYLVIA 

Why shouldn't I believe it? 

SAXON 

Pah! Men don't marry that kind of woman. 

SYLVIA 

[With fear at her heart.'] What kind of woman? 

SAXON 

[Laughs harshly.] Fiancee! Zeila Vorona! Ha! 
Wouldn't she like the chance? ... So he told ye that, 
did he? 

SYLVIA 

Do you know Mrs. Vorona? 

SAXON 

Know Zeila? Everyone knows her — in that set. 

SYLVIA 

What set? 

SAXON 

The one Leonard is evidently movin' in. . . . Leonard 
and Zeila! Fiancee! [Sits and lolls back smiling ma- 
lignantly and muttering inaudihly.] 

SYLVIA 

[Leans forward looking at him very intently: her 
voice trembles. ] Who is Mrs. Verona? 

SAXON 

A very beautful^ extremely cultured — demi-mondaine, 

SYLVIA 

[Starts back as tho' she had been struck: her hands 
press her cheeks: she gives a faint cry.] Oh-h! 

[140] 



Act II: ADOLESCENCE 

SAXON 

An' he told ye he was engaged to her? 

SYLVIA 

[Faintly.] Yes. 

SAXON 

[Starts bolt upright as a new thought comes to him.'] 
There may be something in it! [The idea becomes 
clearer.] She may have landed him. [Jumps up.] Then 
the fat would sizzle on the gridiron. [Practically con- 
vinced that his supposition is true.] That alters things. 

SYLVIA 

What does it alter? 

SAXON 

I don't like talkin' about it to you. ... I really came 
to see your husband — or Leonard. 

SYLVIA 

They're not here. I am. Tell me. 

SAXON 

[Shivers.] Booh! It's a nasty thing to stir up. 

SYLVIA 

Never mind that. I am his mother. 

SAXON 

That's what makes it so particularly obnoxious. 

SYLVIA 

[Insistently.] Tell me. 

SAXON 

All right, Sylvia, old friend. Ye've got to know some 
time. Here goes. The lady who went to the theatre 
[141] 



THE HARP OF LIFE 

last night with your boy and whom you describe as his 
fiancee is, at the moment, living under the protection of 
my son, an' I'm payin' the bills. 

[Sylvia shrivels down into the chair: her hand goes 
to her mouth to stifle an ejaculation of horror.\ 

That's why I had the impertinent curiosity to follow 
'em to the theatre. . . . It's also the reason why I 
tramped over here this mornin' hopin' to find Marshall 
in. . . . It looked at the first "take-ofF" like a case of 
innocent poachin'. That might be nipped in time. No 
harm done. But if he wants to mc^rry the lady ! . . . 
That's quite another pair o' shoes. . . . An' a pretty 
dam bad fit. Someone's goin' to get hurt. 

[Sylvia heats one hand helplessly against the other. 
She tries to speak hut no articulate sound comes.^ 

It'll be a knock-out for Ormonde. Square on the jaw. 
. . . Fancy Zeila thinkin' of marryin' again! And a 
boy! 

SYLVIA 

[Staring into space.] She's that kind of woman ! 

SAXON 

[iVor/s.] She is. There must he that kind in this 
highly civilized era we're livin' in. . . . They're a neces- 
sary part o' the wheel. No use blinkin' at it. There 
they are. . . . Fancy Leonard meetin' her ! That's what 
knocks me. . . . He must ha' made some choice pals. 
. . . Little world: little city: little life — ^the gay one. 
. . . They move round in a mouse-trap. . . . All black- 
guards meet sometime, somewhere. . . . Poor little Leon- 
ard. 

[142] 



Act II: ADOLESCENCE 

SYLVIA 

He shall not marry that kind, 

SAXON 

It 'ud be a shame. . . . All the world to choose from 
an' he picks Zeila ! Takes me back to my salad-days — 
and Pinkie. [Shudders.] 

SYLVIA 

Leonard said she'd been married. 

SAXON 

Oh, yes. She was. For a while. Years ago. ... I 
saw Vorona at supper afterwards, dancin' between 
mouthfuls. . . . Delightful fellow. . . . Worshipped 
her. . . . Poor little beast. 

SYLVIA 

Did she divorce him.'' [Waits: fearing the answer."] 

SAXON 

[Slowly.] No. . . . He divorced her. . . . An* I 
paid the costs and damages. 

SYLVIA 

Your son? 

SAXON 

Yes. . . . Ormonde's buyin' experience an' I'm payin* 
for it. . . . Tough on Vorona, too. He'd pulled her up 
out o' the trough. 

SYLVIA 

There were others? 

SAXON 

Others? ... A string of 'em. 
[143] 



THE HARP OF LIFE 

SYLVIA 

Oh, it's filthy ! Filthy ! Filthy ! To think of Leonard 
being mixed up with them. 

SAXON 

I wouldn't blame him just yet. I'll lay a hundred 
he doesn't know much about her. 

SYLVIA 

[Eagerly.] I'm sure of that. He defended her to 
me. Praised her. [Remembering.] Yet he told me of 
her divorce. 

SAXON 

All of it? 

SYLVIA 

No. Just that she was divorced and had suffered. 

SAXON 

I know. . . . Some women have a way of tellin* 
things — makes 'em seem white as snow. Especially if 
the youngster doesn't know much. From our discussion 
yesterday, I gathered Leonard's in that class. 

SYLVIA 

He knows nothing! Nothing! Marshall wouldn't 
tell him ! He wouldn't tell him ! 

SAXON 

There ye are. First time he's foot-loose up on the 
rocks he goes. 

SYLVIA 

Time and time again I begged my husband to warn 
him. I wanted Leonard to go into the world knowing 

[144] 



Act II: ADOLESCENCE 

how to fight it. The world! The filthy little world my 
boy's been caught in. The world of pleasure ! And what 
kind of pleasure? Their one aim — degradation. I 
wanted him to know how that pleasure is paid for ! The 
toll paid in disease, enfeebled intellects — and what 
follows. A race of wistful, unhealthy, young-old chil- 
dren. They are the spawn pleasure gives to life. . . . 
It was his duty to warn him. ... I wish I'd done it. 
. . . All parents should. . . . They have no right to 
shelter themselves behind a veneer of mock-modesty as 
Marshall has. . . . He shall not marry her. . . . He 
can't marry her. [Goes on talking vehemently to her- 
self.'] 

SAXON 

It 'ud be a pity. That kind o' tie-up seldom turns out 
a winner. . . . I've seen some rub along a year or two. 
That's about the limit. Then one of 'em snaps it like a 
bit o' tape. . . . [Muses.'] That kind o' woman can't 
stick. Reformed mistresses don't always make the best 
wives. Still Zeila's — a pretty good sort. Been straight 
as a string with Ormonde — so far as we know — till this 
thing came along. . . . She's a bit frightened o' Or- 
monde. He doesn't let anyone play the fool. He'll 
quarrel from the drop o' the hat. Got a lot of his old 
dad in him — as well as Pinkie. ... I flung her out when 
I found her takin' the bit in her teeth. ... So would 
Ormonde. They had a tiff a while ago so he's off to 
Norway to cool down. . . . They've had 'em before and 
always come together again. This looks more serious. 
She must have meant it this time. . . . When I saw her 

[145] 



THE HARP OF LITE 

come into the dinin'-room last night with Leonard d'ye 
know I was rattled for a minute. Really rattled. 

SYLVIA 

Did Leonard see you? 

SAXON 

[Laughs gratingly.] Yes, poor lad. I spared his 
blushes by readin' a paper when I wasn't eatin'. . . . 
When the opera was over I walked out behind 'em. Pure 
accident. . . . They got into her car — Ormonde* s car — 
my car — and the order was "home". ... I brooded it 
out into the wee sma' hours an' made up my mind I'd 
sit into the game. . . . Ormonde has a villainous temper. 
Stops at nothin' after a few drinks. . . . Loves to smash 
things — and people. We'd all land in a police-court if 
he caught 'em. . . . Nasty business. 

SYLVIA 

He shall not marry her. He shall not. No. 

SAXON 

Why not send him away? Better still — tahe him? 
. . . Ha ! I wanted Marshall to let him go with Or- 
monde to Norway. Wouldn't hear of it. . . . Seemed 
to think Ormonde 'ud corrupt him. . . . Ha ! Corrupt 

him ! Mr. Leonard's certainly fooled us all Take 

him away. That's best. . . . When Ormonde gets back 
an' they've made it up, Leonard won't get a chance to 
see her. Ormonde's as jealous as a prize-pup. . . . 
Shouldn't wonder if he married her himself some time. 
. . . That's the ticket. Pack him off. 

[146] 



Act II: ADOLESCENCE 

SYLVIA 

No. It's got to be broken. Broken completely. , . . 
He must know her as she is. 

SAXON 

That's good, too. . . . Strip her to the bone. Make 
him cut and run. 

SYLVIA 

[Suddenly remembering.'] His father's going there 
to-day. 

SAXON 

[A stonished. ] Where ? 

SYLVIA 

To call on her. . . . He'll do the one thing to drive 
them into each other's arms. ... I must see her first. 
Take me to her. Now. [Excitedly.] 

SAXON 

Ye're right. . . . Marshall's hot-headed — an' she's 
very tenacious. An' a good fighter. 

SYLVIA 

She may listen to me. 

SAXON 

Anyone would. 

SYLVIA 

I'll get my hat. [Hurries out.] 

SAXON 

I'll look out a train. [Taking out time-table and study- 
ing it.] 

[Sylvia comes back quickly with hat and gloves. She 
[147] 



THE HARP OF LIFE 

is now at great tension. Tears are 'welling up in 
her eyes.l 

SAXON 

There's one at 12.15. Plenty of time. 

[As he looks at her for the first time he grasps some- 
thing of what she is suffering: he speaks to her 
gently and pityingly.] 

I'm sorry to have come on such an errand, Sylvia. 
To you. 

SYLVIA 

[Wistfully.] We were too happy. . . . Something 
had to happen. 

SAXON 

You'll get him back. 

SYLVIA 

[Her voice breaking.] If I — don't? 

SAXON 

That's unthinkable. 

SYLVIA 

Oh, Godfrey, Godfrey, what a world you men make 
of it! 

SAXON 

Don't we? . . . Woman helps a bit, tho*. 

SYLVIA 

If only Marshall had told him! 

SAXON 

[Nods.] Best time to do it is when you give 'em their 
first latch-key. It opens more than the front door. . . . 
Innocence puts a ridiculous value on the charm of vice. 
. . . It's all so new: so glitter-y: so dam nice-an'-easy. 

[148] 



Act II: ADOLESCENCE 

... If they knew what was waitin' for *em there 
mightn't be so many converts to the broad road. 

SYLVIA 

Why didn't you teach your son that? 

SAXON 

I did. But there's too much of me in him. They didn't 
have to drag him in. He jumped, 

SYLVIA 

Leonard has too much of me to be — dragged in. 

SAXON 

I'm sure of it. . . . Still he's done pretty well — for 
a beginner. Picked the queen o' the lot. . . . Too nice 
a lad to join that ghastly procession. . . . Look back ten 
years on the pleasure-seekers of a big city, an' what 
d'ye set} Blasted reputations: careers halted midway: 
hard-faced elderly men an' thin-haired, blotchy, battered 
young 'uns. Not a sensation left. No joy in the present 
an' no hope for the future. ... So they go where the 
lights glare an' the bands shriek an' everybody shouts 
so loud they can't have time to think. ... I sit in my 
little corner an' watch 'em. . . . The Blackguards Pro- 
gress. 

SYLVIA 

Take me to her. 

SAXON 

Right. [Picks up his hat and knotted-stick,'] 

SYLVIA 

Will she give him up.^ 

[149] 



THE HARP OF LIFE 

SAXON 

I think not. ... If she's really gone on Leonard 
she'll fight for him. . . . She'll fight all right — if she 
loves him. 

SYLVIA 

I love him. Fll fight for him. . . . Take me to her. 

SAXON 

Hadn't I better phone? It 'ud save a journey for 
nothin' if she's not in. Shall I.^* 

SYLVIA 

[Distractedly.'] Yes, but hurry. I want to be mov- 
ing. Doing something. 

[She watches him go to the telephone and take off 
the receiver, her face drawn, her breathing rapid.] 

SAXON 

[Speaking into the receiver.] Hello! Hello! Are 
you there? Ah! Give me 721 Cory, will ye? Yes, 
721. Thank ye very much. [Hums softly as he waits.] 
Hello! Eh? You 721 Cory? . . . You are^ ... Is 
Mrs. Vorona in ? . . .Is she ? Oh. Will you be so good 
as to tell her Mr. Saxon 'ud like to speak to her? If it's 
not troublin' her too much. . . . Saxon. . . . The old 
'un. Yes. . . . No. His father! That's it. I'll hold 
on. [Looks up at Sylvia and nods.] She's in. [Looks 
at his watch.] What time is it? I'm stopped. [Sylvia 
shows him her wrist watch.] We're all right. Ah! 
[Into receiver.] Hello! Is that Zeila? That you? 
How are ye? . . . Yes it's me — Godfrey. . . . The ol' 
mountebank! [Laughs.] Never better. . . . You sound 

[150] 



Act II: ADOLESCENCE 

splendid. But ye always are, aren't ye? . . . Eh? . . . 
In the country, walkin' about. . . . Yes. . . . I'm goin' in 
by the 12.15 an' I thought o' runnin' in on ye. What 
d'ye say? . . . Now that's very sweet an' dear of you. 
[Sylvia takes the receiver from kim and listens to the 
voice from the other end, at the same time motioning 
him to go on talking into the telephone.] What are you 
doin' this fine day? 

[Sylvia listens to the reply then hands the receiver 
hack to him. She goes to the table and takes up 
the album of her son*s photographs and looks at 
them. She closes the album and goes over and looks 
up at the painting of him hanging on the wall. 
Saxon meanwhile has resumed talking into the re- 
ceiver.] 
I didn't hear a word ye said. Someone must ha' cut 
in. . . . What? ... I see. ... Eh? Oh just for the 
aesthetic pleasure o' lookin' at ye an' listenin' to ye. . . . 
All right. . . . I'll ha' lunch in town an' look in about 
three. . . . Thank ye. Very sweet an' charmin' o' ye. 
But ye're always sweet an' charmin', ain't ye? . . . 
Good-bye. Much obliged. . . . Good-bye ! [Hangs up 
the receiver. Takes a long breath: looks at Sylvia: rises 
and goes to her. She is still looking at Leonard's pic- 
ture as a little boy. He puts his hands on her shoulders 
and turns her around: there are tears in her eyes. She 
chokes back a sob.] No tears, Sylvia. She hates 'em. 

SYLVIA 

[^Shakes her head.] No. No tears. 
[151] 



THE HARP OF LIFE 

SAXON 

Of course not. [TaJces the handkerchief from her 
hand and tenderly wipes her eyes.^ 

SYLVIA 

[Brokenly, pointing to the picture.] I can't realize 
he's a man. I can only see my little boy with his long 
yellow curls. 

SAXON 

[Hands hack the handkerchief.] Remember, Sylvia. 
No tears. 

SYLVIA 

[Crying bitterly.] No, Godfrey. No — tears. 
[They start to go out.] 

It isn't all — fun — being — a — mother, Godfrey, is it.'* 
[As they disappear the curtain falls,] 
[End of Act 2.] 



[152] 



Act III: MANHOOD 

The drawing-room of Mrs. Vorona's residence. A spa- 
cious, handsome room decorated in white and gold. 
A large, purple flower-bowl hangs prominently from 
the ceiling. An imposing purple screen is noticeable 
near a grand-piano on which is a purple photo-frame 
with Leonard's photograph looking out from it. 

There are two doors. One at back connecting with the 
landing, the second to right leading to Mrs. Vorona's 
boudoir. 

The room is on the first-floor and with the open win- 
dows can be seen the trees fronting the house. 

The door to right is slightly open. From within 
comes the delightful sound of a harp on which is be- 
ing played, quite exquisitely, "Adorable Tourments". 

After a few seconds the door at back opens and Godfrey 
Saxon peeps in. Seeing that no one is in the room he 
comes in quietly, closes the door and listens to the 
music. He smiles grimly and goes to the piano, think- 
ing, his brows knit perplexedly. He halts at the sight 
of the purple frame with Leonard's photograph beam- 
ing at him. He takes it in his hand and looks at it, 
replaces it, meditates, apparently decides on his course 
[153] 



THE HARP OF LITE 

of action, goes over to the door leading to the boudoir 
and taps several times, between the bars of the music, 

MRS. VORONA 

[^C ailing cheerfully from inside the room.^ Come in. 
[The playing on the ha/rp continues.'\ 

SAXON 

[Speaking during a bar's rest in the music^ May I? 

MRS. VORONA 

[Laughing.] Oh! It's you. Wait there. 

[The music stops.] 

[Saxon walks around the room humming the refrain 
of "Adorable Tourments."] 

[Mrs. Vorona comes in from her boudoir. She is an 
extremely handsome, distinguished-looking woman 
of perhaps twenty-four, though the exigencies of a 
somewhat chequered career have given her the man- 
ner and bearing of one in the early thirties. She is 
in buoyant high spirits.] 

MRS. VORONA 

Hello, little man. 

[Goes straight to him and holds out her hand.] 

SAXON 

[Striking an exaggerated attitude of admiration, ejac- 
ulates.] Superb! 

MRS. VORONA 

Like it? 

[Moving so that he can admire the dress from all an- 
gles.] 

[154] 



Act III: MANHOOD 

SAXON 

Like it ! Oh ! [Presses his heart as though in ec' 
stasy and hisses the tips of his fingers with a flourish.'] 
The last word! 

MRS. VORONA 

I'm glad. You paid for it. 

SAXON 

Whatever the cost it was too little. [Raises her hand 
towards his lips and hisses the air an inch from her fin- 
gers.] You do yer modiste credit. She's worthy of a 
big order. I give ye carte blanche. I feel generous 
this marvellous day. 

MRS. VORONA 

[Shakes her head laughingly.] No, Godfrey. No 
more. When you pay the bill for this you may write 
"finis'* after it. ... I'm not going to stick you any 
longer. . . . Sit down and rest your little self. Smoke 
if you like. 

[Tahes a cigarette and lights it.] 

SAXON 

[Sits nervously.] Dear of ye to let me call. 
[Watches her anxiously.] 

MRS. VORONA 

Not a bit. I was going to send for you if you hadn't. 

SAXON 

Were ye? 

MRS. VORONA 

[Laughs.] Yes. But I thought you'd be round. 
[155] 



THE HARP OF LH^E 

SAXON 

{Uncomfortably.'] Did ye really? 

MRS. VORONA 

Rather. . . . When I saw you last night hiding be- 
hind a newspaper and a pile of dishes I knew you'd 
be sitting in this room within twenty-four hours. And 
there you are. 

SAXON 

[Feebly.'] Yes. Here I am. 

MRS. VORONA 

You did look funny pretending not to see me. 

[Laughs.] 

SAXON 

[Laughing too, though without mirth.] I suppose 
I must have. 

MRS. VORONA 

Why didn't you join us.^ 

SAXON 

Oh, I don't know. Ye were enjoyin' yer food with- 
out me. 

MRS. VORONA 

And you could have come into our box instead of 
sitting just beneath. 

SAXON 

[Quite uncomfortable.] What an ass I was not to 
think of it. 

MRS. VORONA 

And I'd have dropped you home if you'd come in 
the motor. 

[156] 



Act III: MANHOOD 

SAXON 

[With a sickly smile.'] What a lot I missed. 

MRS. VORONA 

[Looking at him whimsically.] Godfrey! You're a 
foxy little man, but you're a shocking detective. 

SAXON 

Don't kick me when ye've got me down. 
[Laughing feebly.] 

MRS. VORONA 

Come straight over and speak next time. Don't spy. 
I don't like it. [Sharply.] See? 

SAXON 

[Faintly.] All right, Zeila. 

[Goes across, aimlessly apparently, to the piano and 
stands looking at Leonard's photograph.] 

MRS. VORONA 

[Loudly.] Well? 

SAXON 

[Starts; picks up the photo-frame,] Nice little kid. 

MRS. VORONA 

[Insolently.] Isn't he? 

SAXON 

Ormonde's mug used to be in this. 
[Holding up the photo-frame.] 

MRS. VORONA 

It isn't going to be any more. 
[157] 



THE HARP OF LITE 

SAXON 

[Replacing the frame on the piano.'] Ain't it? 

MRS. VORONA 

[Shakes her head.] No. 

SAXON 

Chucked him in the discard.^ 

MRS. VORONA 

Yes. And about time^ too. 

SAXON 

Oh^ I don't know. 

MRS. VORONA 

[Sneeringly.] I shouldn't think jou'd mind. 

SAXON 

I don't know about that, either. . . . Take the rough 
with the smooth, I think ye've had a pretty good influ- 
ence on him. 

MRS. VORONA 

[In derision.] Good influence! On him! 

SAXON 

Ye had, Zeila. We're mostly what women make 
us. Ain't we.'* 

MRS. VORONA 

I'd take precious little pride in the making of Or- 
monde. 

SAXON 

Yet ye had same — once. 

MRS. VORONA 

He soon changed that. 

[158] 



Act III: MANHOOD 

SAXON 

YeVe quarreled. . . . Ain't ye? 

MRS. VORONA 

No more than usual. 

SAXON 

Hasn't he treated ye right? 

MRS. VORONA 

He's paid my bills — with your money. That's about 
as right as he could treat anyone. [Suddenly she 
cries out vehemently.'] Drop him. I have. 

SAXON 

[Sitting heside her.] What's the sudden **right- 
about" mean^ Zeila? 

MRS. VORONA 

I'm sick of him. And this. . . . 

SAXON 

[He is now quite dejected.'] That so? 

MRS. VORONA 

It is. . . . Don't look so worried. 

SAXON 

I can't help it. I am worried ... I'm pretty fond 
o' Ormonde in me rough, dam-silly way. . . . Suppose 
I oughtn't to be — but 1 am. I hate to see ye take the 
bit in yer pretty little teeth an' ride rough-shod over 
him. It ain't friendly. 

MRS. VORONA 

He'll find someone else. 

[159] 



THE HARP OF LIFE 

8AX0N 

I see you have. 

MRS. VORONA 

I have. 

SAXON 

How long do ye think it'll last.^* 

MRS. VORONA 

Just so long as I can hold him. . . . Now I*m going 
to give you a really good laugh. . . . Godfrey^ for the 
f,rst time I find myself loved — and for the last time 
I'm in lor)e! , . . Well? Why don't you laugh.'' . . . 
Isn't it screamingly funny that I should find anyone — 
noxv — to love me.^ Isn't it still more amusing that / 
should catch it.'' . . . Go on. Croak out the disagree- 
able, unbelieving, sneering little noise you make for a 
laugh. 

SAXON 

I don' feel like it, Zeila. . . . I'm thinkin* 

MRS. VORONA 

What? 

SAXON 

— that it does ye a great deal of credit. 

MRS. VORONA 

I knew you'd sneer. 

SAXON 

I mean it. . . . Sort o' reincarnation. ... A ro- 
mance in purple. . . . Ain't he rather young? 

MRS. VORONA 

Well? I'm not oZ^. 

[160] 



Act III: MANHOOD 

SAXON 

No. Of course ye ain't. . . . Nice kid. Nice an* in- 
nocent. 

MRS. VORONA 

He didn't have you to show him around. Or Or- 
monde. 

SAXON 

He's got you now. 

MRS. VORONA 

[Angrily.'] Stop that. 

SAXON 

[Humbly.'} Beg yer pardon. . . . Have ye weighed 
it well? 

MRS. VORONA 

Don't talk about love as though it were butter. . . . 
TVeighed it! . . . I'm leaving here to-morrow. 

SAXON 

[Aghast.] Are ye? 

MRS. VORONA 

I've taken a flat and a chaperone. . . . I'll leave the 
keys of the house with the agents. Everything else 
with your lawyer — or you. I don't care which. 

SAXON 

Goin' to walk out o' this nice place? 

MRS. VORONA 

I am. 

SAXON 

[Looking around.] Leave all the pretty things? 
Purple — an' everything? 

[161] 



THE HARP OF LIFE 

MRS. VORONA 

Yes. 

SAXON 

Leave poor old Ormonde^ too? 

MRS. VORONA 

I've done that. 

8AXON 

[Seriously. ~\ It won't be so easy, Zeila. He cares for 
ye — cares for ye a whole lot. He stops at nothin' when 
he's crossed. I can't control him. We don't want our 
names in the *'noos"-sheets, do we? 

MRS. VORONA 

I want mine. And I'm going to have it. Among the 
"marriages." 

SAXON 

[Coajsingly.] Zeila, old girl, don't burn every thin' 
up. Take a day or two. Set your little brain a-workin'. 
. . . Send Mr. Leonard back to his paint-brush, an' his 
family. . . . [Waits: she says nothing.] By an' bye — 
who knows ? — Ormonde'll feel the cravin' to settle down 
an' have a real home of his own. An' there ye are. 
. . . I'll give ye a beauty. Better'n this. . . . An' a 
country-place, too. Horses an* dogs an' poultry an' 
cows. I'll watch ye milk 'em. [Watches her plain- 
tively as he makes his poor, little weak joke.] Don' 
give Ormonde the "go-by," Zeila. 

MRS. VORONA 

Do you really mean you'd like Ormonde to marry me? 
[162] 



Act III: MANHOOD 

SAXON 

I do. Ye know how to manage him. Get a firm hand 
on the bearin'-rein. . . . An' ye've got the same tastes 
an' the same friends. What if ye have made a slip or 
two? So's he. Make a sight better match for ye than 
the kid. 

MRS. VORONA 

[Very quietly.'] You're an awfully decent sort, God- 
frey. 

SAXON 

No, I ain't. Hard as nails, really. . . . All this is 
pure selfishness. I would like to see Ormonde properly 
fixed before I take the long count. 

MRS. VORONA 

[Shaking her head.] Too late. . . . It's the truth, 
Godfrey. I am in love. Just like a girl. And it's 
wonderful ! I tell you it's wonderful to wake thinking 
of someone and to know he's thinking of me. . . . To 
look forward to his coming instead of dreading it. . . . 
That's the way it was with Ormonde. . . . Leonard and 
I are going to start fair. 

SAXON 

Can ye} 

MRS. VORONA 

[Angrily.] Yes, we can. 

SAXON 

[Quieting her.] All right. . . . Will ye give me one 
little mite o' consolation? ... If any thin' trips up will 
ye give Ormonde another show? . . . Will ye? . . . 

[163] 



THE HARP OF LIFE 

It ain't much to ask. An' it 'ud give me a sort o' 
sportin' chance. 

MRS. VORONA 

There's no chance. 

SAXON 

I like the "outsiders." Ye always get a good price 
against 'em. . . . Won't ye? . . . No? . . . All right, 
Zeila. [Bending suddenly over her; entire change of 
tone.] What about the lad's people? 

MRS. VORONA 

He hasn't told them yet. 

SAXON 

Yes, he has. This mornin'. I just remembered. 
His mother'll be here presently. 

MRS. VORONA 

Will she? 

SAXON 

She's almost due. I came on ahead to pave the way. 
[Ruefully.] Fine bit o' pavin' I've done, haven't I? 

MRS. VORONA 

[With rising suspicion and anger.] Did you bring 
her here? 

SAXON 

In a sort o' way. 

MRS. VORONA 

That's like you! [Looking at him, contemptuously.] 
Have you told her about me? 

SAXON 

A bit. 

[164] 



Act III: MANHOOD 

MRS. VORONA 

[Derisively.} Your "hit"! She knows everything, 
then? 

SAXON 

I don't pretend to know that, Zeila. 

MRS. VORONA 

[Furiously. } Oh! What a dirty thing to do! To 
bring her here. Here! . . . What sort of person is 
she? 

SAXON 

Hasn't Leonard told ye? 

MRS. VORONA 

No. What is she like? 

SAXON 

She's a very good woman, Zeila. 

MRS. VORONA 

She must be to have such a son. Prim and proper, 
I suppose? 

SAXON 

Well, o' course . . . 

MRS: VORONA 

Goes to church, dresses in black, wears hideous hats, 
and cries and prays on the slightest provocation, eh? 

SAXON 

[Quietly, with malicious delight.} It might be a 
portrait. 

MRS. VORONA 

That kind will have no use for me. 

[165] 



THE HARP OF LIFE 

SAXON 

She's wrapped up in Leonard. 

MRS. VORONA 

Then I've got to unwrap her. 

SAXON 

Don't be hard on her. . . . We're old friends. . . . 
It's for her sake I'm here. ... I'm sorry if I've said 
anything to upset ye. . . . But, ye see, when I heard 
about Leonard I just "saw red" and let out the box-o'- 
tricks. Sorry, Zeila. 

MRS. VORONA 

[Tri/ing to compose her thoughts.'] Oh, keep quiet. 

SAXON 

I've lived too long: that's what's the matter with me. 
[Walking to •window and looking out.] Dam good 
riddance when I drop out. What a mucky thing the 
whole game is. [Suddenly.] Here she is ! Gettin* 
out o' the taxi now! Let me bring her up . . . better 
than the servants. 

MRS. VORONA 

All right. 

SAXON 

Don't be rough on her, old girl. She's — she's salt o' 
the earth. [Hurries out. Mrs. Vorona stands think- 
ing a moment, then goes over to piano, takes up mirror 
and looks at herself. Then goes quickly into room. In 
a few seconds Sylvia enters with Saxon.] Shall I 
wait for you? 

SYLVIA 

No. 

[166] 



Act III: MANHOOD 

SAXON 

Good luck, Sylvia. 

[Watches her into the room; goes out, closing the 
door."] 

[Sylvia looks around the room. The general colour 
scheme arrests her attention first; then, as she real- 
izes where Leonard found the inspiration, she 
looks at the bowl and the screen, and lastly at the 
frame containing his photograph on the piano.\ 

[Mrs. Vorona comes in. She has taken advantage 
of the few moments to add some trifling adornments. 
She looks at Sylvia in absolute amazement, de- 
prived of speech by the contrast between the woman 
before her and the woman she had expected. 
Sylvia turns and looks searchingly at her. She, 
too, is surprised at the appearance of Mrs. 
Vorona.] 

mrs. vorona 

Are you Mrs. Brooke? [Incredulously.] 

SYLVIA 

Yes. 

MRS. VORONA 

Leonard's mother? 

SYLVIA 

Yes. 

MRS. VORONA 

But you're so young! 

SYLVIA 

So is he. 

MRS. VORONA 

He doesn't think so. He rather fancies twenty-three 
is quite old. 

[167] 



THE HARP OF LIFE 

SYLVIA 

Did he tell you he was twenty-three? 

MRS. VORONA 

Yes. 

SYLVIA 

He's nineteen! 

MRS. VORONA 

Nineteen? 

SYLVIA 

month ago. 

MRS. VORONA 

Fancy that! Nineteen! [Laughs.'] I thought he 
was rather backward for twenty-three. Nineteen! 
Rather early to think of marriage^, isn't it? 

[She has grown suddenly nervous in the presence of 
Sylvia, whose steady look and self-possession 
rather unnerve her.] 

SYLVIA 

It is I 

MRS. VORONA 

Still he's asked me to marry him. 

SYLVIA 

He told me. 

MRS. VORONA 

And I've promised him that I will. 

SYLVIA 

He told me that, too. 

MRS. VORONA 

And you, naturally, wanted to see the woman he is 
going to marry. 

[168] 



Act III: MANHOOD 

SYLVIA 

Yes. 

MRS. VORONA 

Well. Here I am. Look at me. 

SYLVIA 

I am looking at you. 

MRS. VORONA 

Do you approve Leonard's choice? 

SYLVIA 

No. 

MRS. VORONA 

That's a pity. . . . What are you going to do about 
it? 

SYLVIA 

Prevent it, if I can. 

MRS. VORONA 

How? 

SYLVIA 

I don't quite know. 

MRS. VORONA 

Try. 

SYLVIA 

I'm going to try. 

MRS. VORONA 

All right. I'll listen. . . . Begin. . . . Give all the 
reasons against marriage mothers have ever given when 
their sons have wanted to do exactly what their fathers 
did before them. 

SYLVIA 

I don't want to talk to you as a mother ... I want 
to speak to you as a woman. 

[169] 



THE HARP OF LIFE 

MRS. VORONA 

You can't. . . . We don't speak the same language. 

SYLVIA 

We should. W^e both love the same boy. And be- 
tween my love and yours — if you really love him — there 
can't be such a great difference. 

MRS. VORONA 

Isn't there .^ . . . That's where you're wrong. 

SYLVIA 

Why am I wrong? 

MRS. VORONA 

Because I love his youth, his enthusiasm, his idealism. 

SYLVIA 

So do I. . . . Only I want him to preserve them. 

MRS. VORONA 

And you don't think he will — with me.^* 

SYLVIA 

No. . . . Do you? 

MRS. VORONA 

Yes, I do. 

SYLVIA 

Do you? . . . Honestly? 

MRS. VORONA 

Yes. I've some idealism left; he's restored my 
drooping enthusiasm: and I've still my youth. . . . 
[Pleadingly.'] Mrs. Brooke, Leonard has opened out 
a new life to me. And what has made it all the more 
wonderful is that it came at a time when the old one 

[170] 



Act III: MANHOOD 

had grown unbearable. Its meanness and tawdriness 
and bitterness were destroying me. 

SYLVIA 

I see. You want to use my boy to nourish your soul. 
I would give mine to feed his. If there's no deeper 
note in your love than grasping at what he brings you 
then in such a marriage my son would indeed be lost. 

MRS. VORONA 

Lost? Why? 

SYLVIA 

Because if you take — take — always take and never 
give, you miss the one real note of love. You would 
rob Leonard of everything you say you love in him. 
. . . And when j^ou'd tired of him he'd come back to 
me with the qualities we both value in him now — gone. 
And it would benefit no one. Least of all — you. 

MRS. VORONA 

That's not true. ... I knew we couldn't think or 
talk alike. . . . What can you know of me? . . . Just 
what Godfrey Saxon told you. . . . Godfrey Saxon! 
... I tell you / can look at the stars as well as Leon- 
ard, though my feet may have been chained to the earth. 
. . . Don't think I like this. ... I don't. ... I hate 
it. ... I despise it. . . . And he'll take me out of 
it. . . . 

SYLVIA 

Can he? 

MRS. VORONA 

Why not? I love beauty as well as he. We'll seek 
it. . . . Seek it together. . . . I've planned it all. . . . 

[171] 



THE HARP OF LIFE 

The places I saw for the first time when I was a girl 
of eighteen. . . . He'll give them a value they didn't 
have then. . , . His love will do that. . . . It's all 
here — here in my brain. ... It will be wonderful. 

SYLVIA 

How long would it last } 

MRS. VORONA 

Why shouldn't it last? . . . Oh, it will last. . . . 
Have no fear. ... I haven't. . . . We'll live for each 
other. 

SYLVIA 

You would be running away from yourself — ^your 
other self. . . . One day it would overtake you. 

MRS. VORONA 

If it did I'd crush it. . . . Crush it. ... As I have 
now. . . . I've done with that. Done with it. No 
more. . . . Never. . . . No sitting in garish restau- 
rants, with their raucous din; hung with jewels as a 
prize-animal is with ribbons, and facing me the sensual 
beast who bought them — and me. . . . Ah! No 
more of that. . . . Done with! . . . Finished. . . . I'll 
dream all my old dreams in the warmth and colour of 
the East. And I'll have a young, eager, hungry heart 
beside me, seeing beauty for the first time. . . . Our 
days will be spent searching for beauty. . . . And night 
will come as a blessing — not a curse. . . . Night ! The 
hideous time between dark and dawn where such as I 
have been paying the debt for our glimpses of beauty by 
day. . . . His love and faith will renew my youth and 

[172] 



Act IH: MANHOOD 

give me back something of all I've lost. . . . Some- 
thing ! 

SYLVIA 

Oh, my dear, my dear ! 

MRS. VORONA 

You can't understand that. 

SYLVIA 

I do understand it. I do. And — I pity you. . . . 
I pity you — because it's so impossible. ... So com- 
pletely impossible. 

MRS. VORONA 

Do you think you can prevent it.^ 

SYLVIA 

You are going to. 

MRS. VORONA 

/ am.'' Indeed I am not. . . . He loves me. See 
how strong your motherhood is against that. 

SYLVIA 

I know. . . . Mother, father, honour, career — ^noth- 
ing matters compared to the blinding happiness a 
stranger can bring him. . . . Oh ! it has always seemed 
that God has denied permanency to any earthly tie so 
that we may be content to go to Him at the end. . . . 
Our passions wither. Our ambitions fade. . . . Only 
love can endure because it is infinite. ... It takes us 
to Him. 

MRS. VORONA 

I thought you were that kind. . . . The kind that 
believes in Him. 

[17S] 



THE HARP OF LIFE 

SYLVIA 

Don't you? 

MRS. VORONA 

No. 

SYLVIA 

I can't understand that. ... I don't think you quite 
mean it. 

MRS. VORONA 

I do mean it. 

SYLVIA 

A great grief or a great joy brings a yearning from 
the soul: an indefinable^ spiritual exaltation. Our hap- 
piness and our suffering have a divine quality. And 
we thrill with its power because a moment of eternity 
comes to us. God seems to be near us. . . . When 
we love He seems to look through the eyes of the loved 
one. 

MRS. VORONA 

Do you really believe that? 

SYLVIA 

I do. A mother touches very near to Heaven in the 
sleep that follows the torture of childbirth. She has 
looked at death and eternity and cried up to her Maker 
in her travail . . . and her prayer is answered in the 
dreamless rest that brings oh! such relief. . . . And 
she wakes to find the crown of her love close to her 
arms. . . . No other such glory is given to man or 
woman. . . . No emperor can know it. He may have 
the power of death. Woman brings life. . . . And 
from that power He has given woman comes the divin- 
[174] 



Act III: MANHOOD 

ity in her nature. . . . Perhaps that has been denied 
you so far? . . . Have you children? 

MRS. VORONA 

No. 

SYLVIA 

Then you are seeking divinity, something so far miss- 
ing in your life, through my son. . . . And he is 
touched with the divine pity for you. 

MRS. VORONA 

It may be divine or it may not — but he does pity me 
and he loves me. If you have taught him the Christ- 
like spirit, and have it yourself, you should be satisfied 
in knowing he is following it. 

SYLVIA 

I would be — if I knew he had it in perfection. Then 
I would have no fear. . . . But have you tested his 
pity for and his faith in you? 

MRS. VORONA 

Yes, I have. 

SYLVIA 

Completely ? 

MRS. VORONA 

Do you think I'd be foolish enough to build my hopes 
on him and leave it to a hint from some creature like 
Saxon to throw me back to this? 

SYLVIA 

So you have told him? 

MRS. VORONA 

A good deal. . . . I'll tell him the rest — in time. 
[175] 



THE HARP OF LIFE 

SYLVIA 

How have you told him? How will you tell him the 
rest ? 

MRS. VORONA 

How? 

SYLVIA 

Have you done it completely? In order? Without 
extenuation? Have you told him in detail? In num- 
bers? Three-four-five — and so on through the list of 
your experiences, without sparing yourself? Have you 
beat it into his brain that he is the la^t of a number? 
Have you? ... Or did you cover it^ and grace it and 
embroider it and weave a silken mesh of words around 
it? . . . Which have you done? . . . Which do you in- 
tend to do? . . . You don't answer. 

MRS. VORONA 

How merciless you Christian women can be! 

SYLVIA 

I don't want to be. Indeed I do not. . . . But I do 
want you to test my boy's faith in you. I want you to 
give a bare, truthful, unvarnished history of facts. . . 
Are you fair enough, brave enough to do that? . . 
There is a horrible nakedness about facts — numbers 
. . . Have you done that? . . . Will you do it? . . 
I see you haven't. I am afraid you won't. . . . Mrs 
Vorona — no, don't turn away — listen to me. I'm in an 
agony of fear for Leonard. . . . I'm helpless against 
you. ... I know that. . . . But think. I taught him 
to walk, to talk, to think, even to love. I've been nine- 
teen years forming a man. . . . You've known him a 

[176] 



Act III: MANHOOD 

few weeks. . . . You think he's been created by God 
and reared by me solely for your redemption. To 
take you out of the horror you have been living in. , . . 
My faith in him does not reach so far. Not quite so 
far. . . . To do that a man must have not only pity, 
charity and love but above all — understanding; all the 
divine qualities. Time and suffering only can give him 
all those. He hasn't them yet. And I'm frightened. 
. . . Tell him the truth. Please do. ... I won't fight 
against the marriage then. ... If, knowing every- 
thing, his knowledge strengthens his love, I'll give in. 
. . . The miracle will have happened. . . . Love will 
be greater than knowledge of sin. . . . I'll be recon- 
ciled. . . . Now that I have seen you, and listened to 
you I feel not only pity but a great yearning toward 
you — since I know it is my boy's best qualities that 
have attracted you. ... I am pleading to you ... I 
have no anger. No scorn. Only sorrow. Hope . . . 
and — affection. 

MRS. VORONA 

Affection? 

SYLVIA 

Yes. From the bottom of my heart I pity you. 

MRS. VORONA 

But you're a believer. A Christian! Doesn't your 
creed danm us eternally.'* 

SYLVIA 

Mine doesn't. 

MRS. VORONA 

Most creeds do. They hold out hope to the wicked 
son but a pit of flames to the wandering daughter. 
[177] 



THE HARP OF LITE 

It's waiting for me. That's why I'm an mibeliever. 
. . . Do you think I believe I'm to be eternally tor- 
mented while the Saxons and their tribe sit tuning harps 
for all time? I don't. . . . And if I did — if I've no 
hope after this life then I'm going to take what I can 
here. Give me faith in this and I may find it for the 
next. . . . Leonard may give me that. . . . Affection! 
Pity! Why to you women are just good or bad. I'm 
had, so down to the pit. 

SYLVIA 

That is not quite fair. . . . To some women goodness 
is an accident. They are loved and protected from the 
opportunity of mistakes. And they live respectably with 
undeserved credit for doing so. That kind of woman 
may be good because she's never had the temptation 
to be evil . . . Another kind of woman sees the futility 
of viciousness. The hopeless future; the impotent and 
degraded old age. She chooses the better life because 
she knows it is wiser. She realizes that decency is re- 
warded even to the grave, and on through all the gen- 
erations. She also sees clearly that the power to do 
evil through pleasure is taken from us long before life 
is spent. But our loves last till death. . . . Passion 
burns out. And afterwards f What.^ — A hopeless, 
child-less, remorseful old age stretches out barrenly to 
the end. . . . You were unfortunate. ... I, too, might 
have been. But for my happy marriage I might have 
been even worse. . . . 

MRS. VORONA 

. . . Do you really think that.'' 
[178] 



Act III: MANHOOD 

SYLVIA 

Opportunity or necessity help to make us what we 
are. . . . There's not such a wide difference between 
women. The same humanity is in us all. Chance de- 
cides for us often. ... It was kind to me. . . . My 
life has been filled. My love for my husband and his 
for me. My life has been complete. . . . Then my 
boy came. Everything a mother could wish her son 
to be he has been. He is part of me — greater than 
husband or self. . . . Send him back to me. ... I 
beg of you. ... If you love him 

MRS. VORONA 

I do. 

SYLVIA 

Then put that love first. Protect him from him- 
self. . . . Tell him everything. 

MRS. VORONA 

Suppose I do and he still loves me and stands by me? 

SYLVIA 

Then I'll give in. . . . You will have done what is 
right. 

MRS. VORONA 

. . . But if he turns from me in disgust? In loath- 
ing? . . . And you think he will. You are sure he 
will! Then what of me? . . . He is the only value in 
life to me now. . . . Every man until I met him, 
treated me as one of many. All of a kind. They've 
not valued me — me — me ! The something beyond the 
body. . . . He does. He brought me his love. I didn't 
seek it . . . and it's mine! ... I'm going to hold it. 

[179] 



THE HARP OF LIFE 

SYLVIA 

Very well. I give in. You're too strong for me. 
. . . But if pity for him and for me ever comes to you 
do the gentle, kindly, womanly thing. Tell him every- 
thing. ... It will make you bigger and finer in his 
eyes in the years to come when he knows the sacrifice 
you made. 

MRS. VORONA 

We can both be happy without that sacrifice. 

SYLVIA 

My last plea: what future can you have together? 

MRS. VORONA 

We'll make it. 

SYLVIA 

He has no career as yet. 

MRS. VORONA 

We'll make that, too. 

SYLVIA 

You would cut him off" from all he's loved from child- 
hood? 

MRS. VORONA 

I'll take their place. Your husband filled your life. 
I'll fill his. 

SYLVIA 

That is your last word ? 

MRS. VORONA 

It is. . . . And I warn you the more you try to part 
us the more he'll cling to me. I know him. . . . Try 

[180] 



Act III: MANHOOD 

to take him away, he'll come back to me. Lock him 
up so that he can't see me and the moment he can es- 
cape he'll fly back to me. 

SYLVIA 

I don't want him that way. He would be all resent- 
ment against me. It would be no longer home. . . . 
No. I want him to leave you of his own free will or 
not at all. If he comes back, his infatuation for you 
gone, his home will have an added value. . . . And he 
will when he knows. . . . And some day he must know. 
. . . He'll turn from you then. . . . But it will be too 

late. He'll be 

[The door at back opens and Leonard looks in: he 
is excited and boyishly exhilarated: he stops 
abruptly when he sees his mother: then he goes 
quickly to Mrs. Vorona.] 

LEONARD 

Excuse me bursting in on you like this. I didn't 
know mother was here. [Goes to his mother.'} So you 
couldn't wait for me to introduce you? You wanted to 
see Zeila. [Proudly.] Isn't she wonderful? [Breath- 
lessly.} Wasn't I right? Although I didn't half do 
her justice, did I? [Laughs boyishly.} You didn't 
think I could possibly find anyone like her, did you.** 

SYLVIA 

[Faintly.} No, Leonard, I didn't. 

LEONARD 

[Going to Mrs. Vorona.] I knew she'd be sur- 
prised. I wish I'd been here to present you to each 

[181] 



THE HARP OF LIPE 

other. It was jolly of her to come all by herself. 
Wasn't it? 

MRS. VORONA 

Very. 

LEONARD 

The moment she — and father — ^heard about you — 
they wanted to see you at once. 

MRS. VORONA 

Will your father be just as enthusiastic — and — 
jolly? 

LEONARD 

More. He's a man. 

MRS. VORONA 

When shall I have the delight of meeting him? 

LEONARD 

Now. He's downstairs. 

MRS. VORONA 

Oh! Is he? 

LEONARD 

He worried me into bringing him. Do you mind? 

MRS. VORONA 

Mind? My dear boy, I'm sure it will be just as 
jolly as — this meeting has been. 
[Looking at Sylvia.] 

LEONARD 

He'll be wild about you — simply wUd. 

MRS. VORONA 

Won't that be charming? 

[182] 



Act III: MANHOOD 

LEONARD 

And you'll be about him. Just as I can see you are 
about mother. He's an awful grouch at times, but 
he's really very good fun when it's all over . . . can 
make you laugh like anything when he wants to. May 
I bring him up? 

MRS. VORONA 

Do. Bring him up. 

LEONARD 

[Rushing out.] Thank you so much. I won't be a 
second. 

MRS. VORONA 

Does your husband know about me.'* 

SYLVIA 

No. He'd gone when Mr. Saxon called. He knows 
nothing. 

MRS. VORONA 

What an interesting family meeting it's going to be! 
Well, his profession will come in useful. He can cross- 
examine me. [Bitterly.] I hate lawyers. Inquisi- 
tive, insulting brutes ! 

[Leonard re-enters, breathlessly, showing in his 
father.] 

BROOKE 

Well^ Sylvia. I didn't expect to find you here. 

SYLVIA 

[Faintly.] I thought I'd come to meet you. 

LEONARD 

Zeila, this is my father. Father — this is Zeila. 
[183] 



THE HARP OF LITE 

BROOKE 

How do you do? [He comes forward and they shake 
hands, Mrs. Vorona, looking keenly at him, drops his 
hand and turns away deliberately. Brooke, prepared 
to he enthusiastic through his son's preparation, is as- 
tonished at her appearance and chilled by her manner. 
He looks from her all round the room, his disapproval 
growing.^ So this is where your presents came from? 

[Indicates screen and bowl.^ 

LEONARD 

[Laughing gleefully. '\ Rather! Isn't it a lovely 
room? . . . Aren't I lucky? I know I am. Here you 
all are. The three people who have done everything 
for me. . . . Zeila, what's the matter? [He turns 
eagerly to his parents. Brooke is looking coldly and 
disapprovingly at Mrs. Vorona, who is growing an- 
grier every moment under the scrutiny, Sylvia has 
turned away to avoid Leonard's eyes. Leonard looks 
from one to the other: the happiness dies away as the 
realisation grows upon him that all is not right. He 
looks long at Sylvia.] Mother! How long have you 
been here? 

SYLVIA 

Not long, dear! 

LEONARD 

What have you been talking about? [With a forced 
laugh.^ I suppose you've been boring her about me. 
You always do if anyone will listen, don't you? 

SYLVIA 

Yes, I suppose I have been boring her. 
[184] 



Act III: MANHOOD 

LEONARD 

I knew it. Poor old mother! [To Mrs. Vorona.] 
I've been her main topic. Now, you're going to be. 

MRS. VORONA 

I think I am. . . . Your mother doesn't quite ap- 
prove of me. 

LEONARD 

[Amazed.'] Not approve'^ 

MRS. VORONA 

I rather think your father doesn't, either. . . . I'm 
sure he hates my room. [To Brooke.] Don't you? 

BROOKE 

I've not said so. 

MRS. VORONA 

You've been looking at it as though it hurt you. . . . 
Leonard, in your mother's opinion I am not the kind 
of woman to make you happy. 

LEONARD 

[Angrily turns on his mother,'] Why did you say 
that.^ 

MRS. VORONA 

She really came to ask me to send you back to your 
family. 

LEONARD 

[Stunned: to Sylvia.] Did you? 

BROOKE 

[Grasping that something is very wrong,'] What is 
all this, Sylvia? 

[185] 



THE HARP OF LIFE 

LEONARD 

Send me back? . . . Why? . . . What right have 
you to interfere? 

BROOKE 

Gently, my boy. If it comes to that we both have a 
right — if there's any occasion. 

LEONARD 

[Hotly.] No, you haven't. 

BROOKE 

[Commandingly.] Leonard! ... [To Sylvia.] What 
is wrong? 

LEONARD 

Yes — what is wrong? . . . Why don't you answer? 

BROOKE 

Come, dear. 

SYLVIA 

[Caught between the two fires, glances at Mrs. 
VoRONA and says quietly,] Ask her. 

LEONARD 

We're asking you. . . . Why did you come here at 
all without me? And then make a fuss? ... It was 
a rotten thing to do. 

BROOKE 

Don't you speak to your mother 

LEONARD 

[Distractedly turns to Mrs. Vorona.] What else 
did my mother say? [To his mother.] Why should 
you interfere? . . . Won't either of you speak? . . . 

[186] 



Act III: MANHOOD 

I came in here quite happy. I thought you'd both be 
so proud of Zeila. [Entreatingli/ to Mrs. Vorona.] 
Please tell me what she said. 

MRS. VORONA 

Amongst other things^ Leonard, — that I'm not good 
enough for you. 

LEONARD 

Not good enough! Why did you say that? 

BROOKE 

Really, it's very bewildering. This lady is entitled 
to some consideration, Sylvia. 

LEONARD 

[To Mrs. Vorona.] I'm sorry if mother said any- 
thing to hurt you. ... [To Sylvia.] If that is why 
you came, it was a contemptible thing to do. 

SYLVIA 

[In distress.'] Don't, Leonard. Don't. 

BROOKE 

Now look here, Leonard, if you dare to speak to your 
mother 

LEONARD 

It is contemptible. To try and put doubts in Zeila's 
mind. I tell you, rather than leave her I'd never see 
either of you again. Never ! 

SYLVIA 

[Deeply hurt.] Leonard! Don't say that. . . . 
Do as you please. Marry her if you wish but never 
[187] 



THE HARP OF LITE 

say that to me again. ... I don't quite deserve it. 
[To Brooke.] Come, dear. 

[She is now crying bitterly. '\ 9 

BROOKE 

Wait. . . . Why aren't you in favour of this mar- 
riage? . . . Well.? 

SYLVIA 

I don't want to say any more. 

BROOKE 

You must have some good reason for objecting. 
What is it? 

SYLVIA 

That is all I am going to say now. 

BROOKE 

But Sylvia 

LEONARD 

You've got to 

BROOKE 

Be quiet. 

MRS. VORONA 

• ril tell you. 

BROOKE 

I wish you would be so good. Miss 

MRS. VORONA 

Mrs. Vorona. 

BROOKE 

Mrs.? 

MRS. VORONA 

Yes. Didn't you know? 

BROOKE 

I did not. 

[Looks questioningly at his son.] 
[188] 



Act IH: MANHOOD 

MRS. VORONA 

Why, Leonard! Didn't you tell your father? . . . 
Oh, yes. I've been married . . . and divorced. 

BROOKE 

Indeed } 

[Looks at her keenly then turns to Leonard.] 

LEONARD 

I told mother this morning. 

BROOKE 

You didn't tell me. 

LEONARD 

Well? What of it? A woman has a perfect right 
to divorce a man who treats her shamefully. 

BROOKE 

But I 

MRS. VORONA 

[Cutting in.] My husband treated me shamefully 
. . . he divorced me. 

BROOKE 

What? 

LEONARD 

[Aghast.] Zeila! [Then hurriedly.] But you were 
innocent? ... Of course you were innocent? 

MRS. VORONA 

The jury didn't seem to think so. . . . My husband 
won the case. 

BROOKE 

Then you defended it? 

[189] 



THE HARP OF LIFE 

MRS. VORONA 

Oh dear, yes. For weeks. 

BROOKE 

[Thinking.] Vorona! [Looking straight at her,'] 
Vorona versus Vorona and Saxon? 

MRS. VORONA 

That's right. 

BROOKE 

I remember the case perfectly. 

MRS. VORONA 

You ought to. You were offered the defence by the 
co-respondent's father. 

BROOKE 

I was. 

MRS. VORONA 

And you refused it. 

BROOKE 

I did. I detest such cases. 

MRS. VORONA 

[Sneeringly, and angrily.] Especially when an old 
friend's son is involved! 

BROOKE 

There was no real defence. I went through the evi- 
dence. 

MRS. VORONA 

It certainly looked bad for me, didn't it? And for 
Ormonde. 

BROOKE 

[Growing angrier and more disgusted every moment.] 
Yes, it did. You never should have defended it. 
[190] 



Act III: MANHOOD 

LEONARD 

Father. 

MRS. VORONA 

He's right, Leonard. We hadn't a chance. Had we? 

BROOKE 

[Looking furiously at her.] No. 

MRS. VORONA 

[Looking straight at Brooke; her one desire to hurt 
him.] You're in old man Saxon's house now. 

BROOKE 

What? [Right up to her; under his breath.] You 
are living here with ? 

MRS. VORONA 

Ormonde? Yes. At least, I was until three weeks 
ago. 

[Leonard stands dazed and horror-stricken.] 

BROOKE 

[Livid with rage, crosses to Leonard.] How dare 
you think of bringing such a woman into my family? 

LEONARD 

[In blind fury.] Don't you say a word against her. 

BROOKE 

From her own confession there is only one word you 
can use. 

LEONARD 

Don't say it ! Don't say it ! 
[191] 



THE HARP OF LH^E 

BROOKE 

So this is the wife you have chosen ! You came from 
a woman like that to your home! You even copy her 
garish stuff and sneak it into my house on the pretext 
that it is artistic! You young whelp! 

SYLVIA 

[Goes quickly between them, puts her arm protect- 
ingly round Leonard, and cries distractedly. '\ Don't 
you call my son names. Don't blame him for this. If 
you didn't choose to tell him about life and he's made a 
mistake, don't turn round now and abuse him. [To 
Leonard hysterically. '\ Leonard, you're perfectly free 
to do whatever you wish. Marry her if you like. Any- 
thing. Only don't ever say you never want to see me 
again. Don't say that. Don't think it. Because 
you're everything to me — everything. 

[Completely breaks down and sits on sofa crying and 
sobbing.^ 

LEONARD 

[Half -hysterically. Goes to his mother.^ Don't 
mother, don't. 

BROOKE 

[Am^azed at the fury of her outburst, changes his 
whole manner, goes to her to try to calm her, stands 
about her, his words come haltingly. ~\ Sylvia! My 
dear ! I was only thinking of you. Only of you ! Oh, 
everything has suddenly become all wrong. Don't — 
don't let us quarrel. It's the first time you've ever 
spoken to me like this. Sylvia! Stop! Stop! I'll let 
him do anything he pleases. You're first with me. 
[192] 



Act III: MANHOOD 

Leonard is with you. He can do anything, but you 
mustn't suffer. [To Leonard.] Do what you please. 
Anything. [To Sylvia.] There. [All through this 
speech Sylvia sobs between his sentences. Occasion- 
ally Leonard tries to speak. Finally Brooke puts his 
hand on Sylvia's arm and pleads almost in a whisper.l 
Come. Let us go. [Both go up to door and look round 
at Leonard, who turns away from them and looks at 
Mrs. Vorona, bewildered by the rapidity of the emo- 
tional outbursts.^ Come, Leonard. 
[Leonard does not move.] 

MRS. vorona 
Just a minute, Mrs. Brooke. [To Leonard.] Don't 
turn away from your mother like that, Leonard. We've 
had a long talk about you. She's made me rather curi- 
ous. Come here, Leonard. [Leonard goes to her.] I 
wonder how deep is the faith of nineteen — your mother 
tells me you are only nineteen. [Leonard looks re- 
proachfully at his mother.'] I want to tell you a few 
things about myself. You'll have to know them some 
time. You'd better hear them now. 

SYLVIA 

No. I didn't realize he cared so much that he could 
tell me he didn't want to see me again — I don't want to 
talk of this any more. 

MRS. vorona 
I want to. 

SYLVIA 

Not now. I won't have Leonard tortured. 
[193] 



THE HARP OF LIFE 

MRS. VORONA 



Yes, now. 



[Taking her son by his arm: breathlessly :'\ Come, 
Leonard. 

MRS. VORONA 

Leonard. [Leonard releases himself from his moth- 
er's grasp and turns to Mrs. Vorona.] I've been rather 
unlucky in my affections. In fact, very unlucky. . . . 
I began about your age . . . really a year younger 
. . . eighteen. ... At eighteen I was impulsive, head- 
strong, impossible. I wanted more than anything to 
travel. As my parents couldn't take me I had to find 
others who would. So at the delicate age of eighteen I 
started wandering. . . . Some one had to pay the bills. 
/ couldn't. So I made friends. One took me South, an- 
other East, a third through Central Europe. While in 
Italy with the fourth — or it may have been the sixth, 
I've really forgotten for the moment — I met Vorona. 
in Rome. All the others seemed content to separate 
and go their own ways when we were mutually bored. 
He didn't. He insisted on marrying me — just as you 
do. So my wandering ended and I settled down . . . 
for a while. ... It didn't last very long. . . . What 
happened after that you know. Since my divorce I've 
been living here. And in addition 

LEONARD 

[In agony.] I don't want to hear any more. I don't 
want to hear it. 

[194] 



Act III: MANHOOD 

MRS. VORONA 

So you don't want to hear it? [To Sylvia.] He 
can't even listen. 

SYLVIA 

Don't — don't. 

MRS. VORONA 

There mustn't be any misunderstanding. ... I am 
in a self-revealing mood — I want you to know the real 
me. . . . Leonard^ I've always put my best goods in 
the window for you. Now I feel like telling you of the 
stuff inside. ... I have an appalling temper. A de- 
structive one. . . . You mustn't take any notice of me 
when I'm like that. Let me alone until it's over. . . . 
It would be a good time to go to your mother and have 
a little quiet. . . . Ormonde always used to dash off at 
the first sign. . . . Outside of that I'm fairly agree- 
able — except that I'm jealous, capricious, extravagant 
and intensely selfish. . . . But you'll get used to those 
things. You're a dear boy and I know you'll make al- 
lowances. Personally I never do for anything or any 
one. ... I insist on everyone putting me first and never 
expecting anything in return. . . . Whenever they 
didn't like it that way they could get out. ... Of 
course when you're married it's somewhat different. . . . 
Still you'll always have your mother to go to. . . . 
Now you know the worst of me. . . . Beyond that I*m 
really rather likeable. Not quite as much as you think 
me — still likeable . . . and very expensive. . . . You 
will have to paint hard and often to keep me the way 
I'm accustomed to being kept. I can't bear to be de- 
[195] 



THE HARP OF LIFE 

prived of anything. It puts me into shocking tem- 
pers. . . . Still if you don't make enough, I daresay 
your father will come to our assistance — as Ormonde's 
did. . . . Now you know all about me. [To Brooke.] 
And you. [To Sylvia.] Are you satisfied? 

SYLVIA 

Are you? Look. 

[Leonard has throzvn himself into a chair, his hands 
over his eyes. As the cold, bitter, unemotional 
tone of Mrs. Vorona's voice ceases he takes his 
hands slowly from his eyes and looks up. A 
change has taken place in him: he seems to ha-ve 
aged: to have passed in a few moments from boy- 
hood to manhood: he rises unsteadily and stands 
looking at Mrs. Vorona, his eyes glaring, his 
breath coming thickly. 1 

LEONARD 

So you have been just amusing yourself with me. 
... I couldn't make an animal suffer as you've made 
me. ... A little while ago I was happy. I was a 
boy. . . . My parents were meeting the woman I wor- 
shipped. ... I shall never know youth again. ... I 
seem to have grown old. Quite old. . . . Why did you 
do it.^ . . . Why did you let me care for you if that is 
all the feeling you have for me.'' 

MRS. VORONA 

My dear boy, after all, you love me as I am. What 
does it matter what I was? 

[196] 



Act III: MANHOOD 

LEONARD 

Behind everything you said I heard the sneer, the 
gibe, the ahnost brazen glory in telling it. . . . It's on 
your face now. You're laughing at me! Laughing at 
me! 

MRS. VORONA 

Really, Leonard 

LEONARD 

You are! You are! I heard the scoff in the meas- 
ured/ deliberate tones of your confession. Not a shred 
of regret. No shame. No sorrow. As though you 
were telling of some other woman. You seemed to 
take pleasure in hurting me; bruising me. 

MRS. VORONA 

Where was the use of mincing things.^ Embroider- 
ing them? Covering them in a silken mesh.^ I have 
given you facts and numbers. If we're going to spend 
our lives together you must know me intimately. I 
tried to be honest with you. To hide nothing. — I dare- 
say I'll remember more when I've had time to look 
back carefully. . . . For instance — when I was in 

LEONARD 

Don't ! Don't ! 

MRS. VORONA 

Well, of course; if you're going to make a fuss over 
a few little things 

LEONARD 

Little things? Is that how you look at them? 
[197] 



THE HARP OF LIFE 

MRS. VORONA 

How else should I ? ... As a matter of fact I hadn't 
thought about them for years. . . . You're very un- 
grateful. . . . Isn't he, Mrs. Brooke? I bare myself 
as I've never done for anyone and he reproaches me. 
. . . I'm disappointed in you, Leonard. Very disap- 
pointed. 

LEONARD 

Where is your gentleness and tenderness of yes- 
terday ? 

MRS. VORONA 

Yesterday I felt gentle. Just now I'm rather upset 
at all this questioning and shouting and crying. We're 
all so emotional. It would distract anyone. ... So 
far you've taken me as you found me and we've been 
quite happy together. . . . To-morrow I may be in the 
most horrible rage. In fact, I feel it coming on now 
if your father continues to glare at me in that insult- 
ing way. ... I don't like your father, Leonard. . . . 
We mustn't see much of him, unless he treats me courte- 
ously and considerately, as a woman in my position 
demands to be treated — as I know you will treat me. 

LEONARD 

[Feebly heating one hand against his other.] I pic- 
tured things so differently ! So differently ! 

MRS. VORONA 

You poor boy. 

LEONARD 

Boy ! That's it ! That's how you think of me now 
you know my real age. . . . You taunt me with my 

[198] 



Act III: MANHOOD 

youth. Yesterday you were proud of it. You thought 
I was twenty-three. You said youth was the only thing 
in life worth fighting to hold. Now you reproach me 
with it. 

MRS. VORONA 

Do you expect me to be always paying you compli- 
ments because you're younger than I am.^ . . . There 
may be times when I'll hate you for it. 

LEONARD 

I feel youVe never loved me. I've just amused you. 

MRS. VORONA 

[Laughing harshly.] You're really very funny to- 
day. 

LEONARD 

Funny! 

MRS. VORONA 

Yes. In a boyish way. Sometimes I've liked it. 
Just now it's rather ludicrous. ... I tell you a few 
little things 

LEONARD 

Little again! Little! 

MRS. VORONA 

I'm afraid you don't know yourself yet, Leonard. 
At the sudden contact with knowledge — of a certain 
kind — you seem to ring hard. It frightens you. Dis- 
gusts you. . . . Vorona was very like that, too. . . . 
So we parted. . . . Take care, Leonard. 

LEONARD 

I don't seem to recognize you. 
[199] 



THE HARP OF LIFE 

MRS. VORONA 

I rather think you're repenting of your bargain. . . . 
Perhaps I am, too. . . . You annoy me to-day. Irri- 
tate me. . . . Suppose we both own up? Admit we've 
made a mistake,^ It isn't a very serious one. Nothing 
like as serious as some I've made. . . . I've got over 
them. I'll get over this. . . . And as youth is one long 
mistake, you'll soon get over it, too. . . . You've got 
a dear mother to go back to. ... I don't envy you 
your father. . . . There. ... No harm done. ... At 
least very little. . . . Put all the blame on me. . . . 
Take it like a little man. 

LEONARD 

[Moans.] My heart is like lead. It hurts me. 
Hurts. 

MRS. VORONA 

I know that feeling. I've had it often. . . . Espe- 
cially at night. . . . Then I've waked in the morning, 
had my coffee, glanced at the ncM'spaper and found the 
world had been running around just the same quite 
regardless of me. ... So I began all over again, re- 
gardless of it. . . . When you get to my age you'll 
find that's all life amounts to. Just a lot of beginnings- 
all-over-again. 

LEONARD 

[Burying his face in his hands.] You don't love 
me ! You don't love me ! 

MRS. VORONA 

You begin all over again, Leonard. [Turns to 
Sylvia.] Take him back. . . . He's yours again. 

[200] 



Act III: MANHOOD 

SYLVIA 

[^Looks at Mrs. Vorona gratefully. She understands 
why Mrs. Vorona has sacrificed her affection for Leon- 
ard. She goes to her son and puts her arm around him. 
He is sobbing bitterly. 1 Leonard! . . . Don't cry^, 
Len. 

LEONARD 

[Through his sobs.] Oh, mother, she doesn't love 
me. She doesn't love me. 

SYLVIA 

[Whispering to him, soothing him as though he were 
a child.] Ssh! Ssh! . . . Don't do that. . . . Every- 
thing will be just the same. . . . I'll help you to for- 
get it. . . . And you will. 

LEONARD 

She was laughing at me ! Laughing at me ! 

SYLVIA 

Ssh ! Ssh ! You came to me as a child when you 
were hurt. Now you're a man. . . . Come to me, Leon- 
ard — as a man. 

LEONARD 

[In a whisper.] Oh, mother, I'm so ashamed. 
Ashamed! 

SYLVIA 

Ssh ! Ssh ! You'll look at everything differently to- 
morrow. . . . All life is before you. . . . You're only 
in its morning. . . . Come, Leonard. Come home with 
your poor old mother. 

[201] 



THE HARP OF LIFE 

LEONARD 

[Helplessly.] Take me away. [He rises: tries to 
throw off his shame and dejection.] It's all over. Not 
going to cry any more. [Trying to laugh.] It's all 
right, old lady. Quite all right. . . . Let's go home. 
. . . [Goes to door: stops: looks at Mrs. Vorona.] 
May I see you again? 

MRS. VORONA 

When you've quite grown up. We'll have a good 
laugh together. 

LEONARD 

May I write to you? 

MRS. VORONA 

Good lord, no. I hate reading letters. And I never 
answer them. 

LEONARD 

[Bitterly.] You don't want to hear from me or see 
me? 

MRS. VORONA 

No. Ta-ta! 

[Turns away and walks across the room.] 
[Leonard goes out abruptly. Sylvia turns to her 
husband.] 

SYLVIA 

Marshall, I want you to say something to her — I 
want you to thank her. 

BROOKE 

Thank her? For what? Leonard has had a very 
lucky escape. 

[202] 



Act III: MANHOOD 

SYLVIA 

Don't you know why she did that? 

BROOKE 

No. Why? 

SYLVIA 

Because I asked her to. 

BROOKE 

You asked her? 

SYLVIA 

Yes. She did that to send him back to us. And 
she has. I want you to speak to her^ dear. Thank 
her. 

BROOKE 

[Hesitates: then goes to Mrs. Vorona.] Mrs. 
Vorona. [She turns to him.] I am extremely sorry 
for my rudeness to you. I was quite in the dark about 
things. I offer you my sincere apology. . . . Will you 
accept it? 

MRS. vorona 

No. 

BROOKE 

I'm afraid it was too much to expect. At any rate, 
do please accept my gratitude — my sincerest gratitude 
— for your splendid generosity. It was fine of you. 
[Mrs. Vorona makes no sign. Brooke turns to 
Sylvia.] What more can I do? Put it right if you 
can, you wonderful woman. 

[Goes out.] 

SYLVIA 

[Looking gratefully at Mrs. Vorona.] Thank you! 
[203] 



THE HARP OF LIFE 

MRS. VORONA 

So Leonard's gone. . . . Gone out of my life. . . . 
I always would upset things on a moment's impulse. 
. . . Your husband plunges me into temper, you into 
pity, and I throw over my one chance of happiness. . . . 
Well, ft couldn't have lasted. ... I suppose it's my 
punishment — to meet Leonard now instead of when I 
was eighteen. . . . Do you know why I gave him up.'' 

SYLVIA 

No. 

MRS. VORONA 

I don't know, myself. Unless it was that I saw you 
suffer more in this room than / have in my whole life. 
You made me very sorry for you. \^There is a pause. 
Then in a very angry tone.] If that husband of yours 
had come instead of you I'd have stuck to Leonard, 
and I could have made him stick to me. 

SYLVIA 

I know that. 

MRS. VORONA 

What a mess you've made of your life! . . . With 
your looks and style and spirit, oh my, what a time 
you could have had! You might have been another 
Lady Hamilton — or a Nell Gwynne. Gone down into 
history with the best of us, instead of being chained up. 

SYLVIA 

Some women love their chains. I adore my husband. 
I worship my boy. 

MRS. VORONA 

Why, you've given all your young pretty years in 
the service of two male tyrants. You poor thing! 

[204] 



Act III: MANHOOD 

SYLVIA 

And your young pretty years? 

MRS. VORONA 

At least no one owns me. 

SYLVIA 

How forlorn that must make you feel. Not to be- 
long to anyone, but to everyone. To have the world 
at your command while you're still healthy and radiant, 
and only a paid servant at your bedside when you're 
ill. To have given your womanhood to man's pleasure 
and never to have known his tears. . . . The joy of 
making just one man completely yours. You poor 
thing. . . . My dear, it's no victory to hold a man for 
an hour, a day, a year. ]\Iany women of little talent or 
charm have done that. But, if after twenty years of 
married life a man still says: "You wonderful woman" 
.... I think I have a little to brag about, don't you } 

MRS. VORONA 

You're a funny person. Leonard and you seem to 
pop out of each other all over the place. You're both 
children. [Reflectively.^ Still, that's nothing against 
you. . . . After all, most of the great mistresses were 
very feminine and childlike. 

SYLVIA 

So are all great mothers. 

MRS. VORONA 

YouVe missed your vocation. 

SYLVIA 

[Shaking her head.] No. I've found it. [Holds 
out her hand.] God bless you ! 
[205] 



THE HARP OF LIFE 

MRS. VORONA 

Do you think He will? 

SYLVIA 

Yes. 

MRS. VORONA 

[ Curiously. ] Why } 

SYLVIA 

Because He does understand. 

MRS. VORONA 

[Takes her hand.] That's nice of you. Take care 
of Leonard. 

SYLVIA 

I will. 

[Goes to door.] 

MRS. VORONA 

[To Sylvia at doo?-.] Good-bye, Nell Gwynne. 

[Sylvia turns in doorway, smiles back at Mrs. 
VoRONA, and goes quietly out. Mrs. Vorona 
stands thinking a moment, gives a gesture as if try- 
ing to dismiss the whole thing, moves aimlessly to 
lounge. Slowly lies on it, and puts arms up above 
her head. She lies there staring into the past. 
Her future is now just a blur. She covers her eyes 
as though to shut out the hideous phantoms. A 
great, heart-broken sob escapes her. It is as the 
cry of a lost soul.] 

THE end of the PLAY 

[206] 



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